Second Chances
by WonderFuuandMisaki
Summary: When Harry meets Albus in Kings Cross after he dies in the final battle, he isn't just sent back to life, but back in time to his eleven-year-old body, memories intact. Now he must relive his school years, in an effort to stop the war before its too late. Will be SS/HP in later years.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, or settings, or anything related to the world of Harry Potter. This belongs to J. K. Rowling, I just like reimagining things she beautifully did in a different way that I like to toy with.

Warnings: There will be mentions of abuse from the Dursleys, mostly just Cinderella-esque (very little physical, mostly mental). This story will later involve a relationship between two men, Harry Potter and Severus Snape. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Chapter 1 - King's Cross

The cool air carressed Harry's face, the air surrounding him seemed almost damp. The forest was shrouded from what was left of the day's sunlight. He could feel the heavy waves of magic rolling toward him from all sides; he was surrounded.

"Well, well, Harry Potter. Such a surprise, giving yourself up to me like this. I would've thought you would let some more of your little friends die first while you cowered in your castle." Red eyes narrowed in his direction, the infamous bone-like wand pointing lazily at him.

"You win," Harry spoke, his voice steady. This had to happen, he had to give himself up. There would never be any hope of getting rid of Voldemort completely, not while he still had a piece of his soul within Harry.

The Dark Lord's fingers twitched, curling tighter around his wand. "That's right Harry, I do win. Such a pity, I had hoped you would have put up more of a fight. No matter..." Voldemort's arm extended slowly, his chest puffed out. The madmans eyes gleamed and in a moment Harry saw true happiness in the man that was about to kill him. "Avada Kedavra!" The green beam hit Harry squarely in the chest and he collapsed.

Harry Potter had never been normal. Oh, you mustn't misunderstand me, by this I don't mean to say he wasn't average. No, no, Harry was definitely an average boy, and an average wizard. He had average grades, an average desire to indulge in hobbies and parties with friends, even an average appearance, save for his killing curse green eyes. No Harry was never normal such that the rules never seemed to apply quite the same to him. For instance, when you die, you generally expect to stay dead. Harry had a feeling even the finality of death would not be the same for him. So here he was, the Boy-Who-Would-Live-Twice, moseying down the expanse of pale light toward his mentor and friend Albus Dumbledore.

"Sir?" Harry breathed, not quite sure where to start.

"Welcome, Harry. I was wondering precisely when you'd arrive." He glanced at his bare wrist, as though he were checking the time. Harry frowned, the man didn't have a watch as far as he could see. "I must say I never expected you to get here with so much time to spare." The elderly man smiled, a familiar twinkle in his eye.

Harry smiled back reflexively. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm really not quite sure what you mean. Where exactly have I arrived _at_?"

"But Harry, surely you recognise it? You've been here enough over the years, though never quite like this I suppose." Dumbledore motioned around.

The boy glanced from side to side. Of course. He was at King's Cross. How had he not recognized it before? Pale light flooded the area, unsettling him. It had certainly never been this bright before. The silence of the platform startled Harry, save for a few benches it was completely empty. It was almost as though he was standing in a world full of nothingness.

"Am I dead, Professor?"

Dumbledore patted his back gently, "Please Harry, call me Albus. I'm no longer your teacher, and you are certainly no longer just a young boy." The elderly man sounded tired, drained, as though he had kept aging even after he had passed on. A sigh escaped him, and his features brightened again, "Well of course you're dead. Not to worry though, you'll be back before breakfast I'm sure."

Harry shook his head. He was doing his best to follow along with what the Prof- Albus was saying but he wasn't making any sense, though if Harry were being quite honest the man had never made much sense when he was alive either. And what was that about breakfast? "I'm not quite sure I understand," the young man said loudly in a vain attempt to mask his stomach's groan of appreciate at the idea. What he wouldn't do for some eggs and toast right now.

"Do you recall what I told you when you asked about being sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin? That our actions define who we are. Well Harry you have a rare opportunity to redefine who you are, to retry all the actions you have made these past few years, now that you are your own whole self." Dumbledore averted his gaze from Harry's, looking toward the bench nearby. Squinting to see, Harry's eyes took in the sight of a small form huddled underneath, shivvering violently. The younger man took a step forward, stopping as his old Headmaster shook his head.

"You must leave him be Harry. This one cannot be saved. You must not allow this to return to you, this piece of evil."

Eyes dawning with realization Harry gasped, "That's him isn't it? Lord Voldemort. Or at least... the piece of him that was inside me, inside my scar."

Dumbledore nodded and pulled up his sleeve slightly, squinting down at his wrist again. Harry's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. What was the old man looking at?

"We must be quick about this Harry, there isn't much time left for you here. As I said, you have been given a chance to change yourself, and I believe the world around you as well. While you don't have much time here, I must tell you to tihnk carefully about the choices you make when you go back. Take your time and search every possibility. The things you change may have unforseen consequences. I think, however, that you shall do quite well, and that you may discover thing about yourself you never imagined. After all, you were able to save more than one life before," Dumbledore said softly. Harry's mind drifted back to his third year, when he saved Sirius and Buckbeak from a death sentence. "Now that the horcrux is gone from within you, you must not die. For if you do, I fear we shall not meet here again. Somewhere far darker may await you should you fail," his eyes glazed over the huddled form beneath the bench once more, his tone becoming insistent and rushed. "You only get one chance. Make it count."

Harry shuddered. He didn't want to look any closer at the piece of Voldemort he had abandoned not minutes ago. It was unsettling enough from where he currently stood. Something in his chest gave a lurch and Harry suddenly wasn't so sure if he was going to like where he was going once he left here, wherever that may be.

Dumbledore's eyes darted to what Harry had now dubbed his 'imaginary watch', "It's time to go Harry. I must ask too much of you one last time."

The boy nodded, feeling slightly queasy. The light around him seemed to dim and the Headmaster seemed to stretch further and further away. The last thing Harry remembered before all went to black was the piercing cry of the Dark Lord's final horcrux as it's vessel left it abandoned.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Breakfast

Harry's eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly as stray particles of dust assaulted his eyes. His arm stretched out to the side awkwardly, fingers fumbling for his glasses. Sliding them on, he took in his surroundings with sudden clarity. He was in his cupboard, on his rickity cot. As he looked down his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was 11-years-old again! At least, he was fairly certain he was 11, it felt like the correct guess. Though his body was once again young, his mind seemed intact. He could remember his life in vivid detail - his acceptance to Hogwarts, his years spent defeating Voldemort in various forms, the loss of his friends and Godfather along the way, and ultimately his death at the hands of the madman that had terrorized them all.

As he took it all in, the boy's ears perked up at a slight metallic jingle. A thin gold chain was clasped comfortably on his left wrist. Harry eyed the single charm it held with curiosity. It looked a bit like a time turner, albeit much smaller, and with flecks of light swirling around inside it like stray dandelion puffs in a summer's breeze. His fingers struggled to remove the object, but it seemed insistent on staying in place. Each time he would try to tug on the bracelet or it's clasps, it willed itself back into place. Harry twitched; he doubted that this mystery was one he'd be solving anytime soon. He made a quick mental note to look more into time turners when he could.

Hedwig hooted once, and Harry's face softened. Well he was certainly 11 then, and he'd already met Hagrid. He looked under his cot and found the tattered trunk that held his school supplies. Hagrid had "convinced" the Dursleys to give him something to pack his things for school in. It had been Dudley's before the boy had broken it's lock. The paint was peeling off of it, and there were many weathered down crass stickers from its previous ownership. Harry would certainly have to get some new baggage as soon as possible. This old thing had completely fallen apart before his first school year had been up.

With a breath for confidence, Harry ventured out of his cupboard and observed Petunia by the stove almost immediately. She turned to him with a sneer, "You! Come finish preparing breakfast while I go wake Dudley."

Quick to comply, Harry's body began to work like clockwork, remembering the countless mornings he had slaved over the hot stove to make food for his relatives. With years of practice beyond his current age floating about in his mind he doubted if he would ever burn a meal again. He would certainly try to avoid it, knowing what the Dursley's would do if it wasn't perfectly cooked. His body shook with a tremor of remembrance before returning to his task **.** He didn't want to be on the recieving end of Vernon's belt quite as often this go around.

Harry heard what he thought was thunder for a moment before realizing it was just Dudley and Vernon coming down the stairs. The boy finished putting the eggs, bacon, and pancakes on the plate before snatching up the last two little silver dollar pancakes and stuffing them in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow, his throat sore, "Good morning Uncle Vernon, good morning Dudley."

Both whales sat down at the table, ignoring Harry completely save for a single kick in the shin from Dudley. Vernon looked at him proudly, "That's my boy, Dudley! Strong young lad aren't you?"

The family ate breakfast in silence, both males were too busy shoveling food into their mouths too quickly to say anything. Harry lathered up the pans and plates carefully, cleaning the dishes while he watched the family interact. His leg was sure to have a bruise later, but the pain was fading quickly. He was far too used to this sort of thing. Petunia kissed her son on the forehead and handed him his school bag.

"Have a good day at school my Duddykins!" She fawned over the boy a bit before moving on to her husband, giving him an appropriate peck on the cheek, "Have a good day at work, Vernon. I'm so excited that you might be in line for that raise. We can finally hire a gardener so the neighbors won't have to look at _him_ anymore," she threw a sidewways glance at Harry before smiling saccharinely at her husband once more. The men rushed out the door, eager to get started with their days. Harry allowed himself a brief moment of silence, sending good thoughts to whomever those two may be terrorizing today.

Today was his Aunt's bimonthly haircut day and if that raise she had mentioned was truly possible, she'd certainly want to flaunt it to all the ladies at the salon. Petunia had left quickly after her husband and son, arms full of magazines with the latest celebrity hairstyles, and wouldn't be back for quite a few hours. Harry wasn't sure how it took so long, for she usually came back looking the same if not for an extra curl or two here and there. It was rare for Harry to find a day to himself and he sighed in relief as he sat back in his cupboard after taking a quick look at the calendar. The peace and quiet gave him some much needed time to think, and he greatly prefered the comfort that the dim cupboard gave him rather than the glaring sun of the outside world. It was the last Friday before he was to go to Hogwarts - Dudley's private school nearby had started just a bit earlier than the magical castle did - and he had much to mull over.

Clearly he was back in his old body to change something, many somethings. If he had understood Dumbledore right it would also take some time. Of course Harry had no idea what he was supposed to change, but perhaps that was the key. He could choose what should be changed. So many things had happened over the years, things that should never have come to pass, but now he could change all that. Well, perhaps not everything. the corners of his lips fell into a frown. Perhaps taking his time, going year by year, letting events unfold and changing them as he knew he should would be the best approach. He certainly couldn't change everything at once, if he tried no one would believe him when he tried to explain.

He could picture it now, "But sir, please, you must believe me. I'm from the future, and I just _know_ that this isn't going to go well." Harry snorted. An 11-year-old boy would never be believed, even if he was the Boy-Who-Lived, _twice_ he added silently. Even Albus would be skeptical, and that was saying something. No he would simply have to wait for things to happen naturally and deal with everything as it arrived.

The boy's face softened as he thought of Hogwarts. Harry was quite excited to see the school again. Back in his time it had been so depressing by the end of his days, the dark magic that had been forcecd into the school having poisoned the castle to its core. Of course, it would be bright and light now since none of that had come to pass yet here. Of course, the subtle darkness had begun creeping into Hogwarts back in his first year. He thought of Quirrell and his attempts to kill Harry and acquire the stone for the leech of the Dark Lord that the Professor had sustained. He would have to do something about that for sure.

He knew all that would happen in the upcoming year, and if all went as well as could be, he would have a lot more free time than he had in his first lifetime. He could apply himself, study harder like Hermione, study _harder_ than Hermione even, since he had already learned so much. Perhaps he'd even take up a hobby or look for a way to get away from the Dursleys. His eyes lit up with the possibilities. He had always regretted not applying himself more in school. Maybe if he had tried harded, gotten in less trouble, he would have been able to end the war sooner, or even prevent it from happening all together. Harry nodded once, the idea cemented in his mind. He would work hard, and learn more. After all, who knew what kinds of magic there were in the world that he had overlooked, that could turn the tide of the battles yet to come. And what better time to start than the present.

Checking the time once more to be sure Petunia wouldn't be home soon, Harry scurried out the door and down the street, grabbing a bus into London. As he arrived near the Leaky Cauldron he found himself being stared at by quite a few of the muggles around him. Whispers carried themselves into his ears, "He's so young, I wonder if he's lost. Do you think his parents are nearby?" Harry's feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he rushed into the pub. He had forgotten that he wasn't 17 anymore, he was a little boy again, walking around London alone.

Pushing the door open, he threw Tom the barkeep an awkward smile before going to the back and tapping the bricks the correct way to open the door to Diagon Alley. His breath hitched as his eyes scanned the colorful shops that in his time had been long ago abandoned in fear of a Death Eater raid. The wide alleyway was a blur of wizards and witches in tall hats and long robes. Harry's limbs were glued to his sides, squeezing their way through the labryrinth of people. At least he wouldn't have to worry about being recognized, not in this crowd.

He made his way to an intimidating building, rising just above the others. Harry was glad there weren't many people coming and going from the ivory parthenon at the present, it would go much faster this way and everyone wanted to get in and out of Gringotts quickly. The Goblins seemed to unnerve everyone. Harry looked around at them with disgust. The boy recalled how they had treated the dragon that guarded their treasures. How they ever hoped to get the same rights as wizards when they still treated other creatures like that was beyond him.

He approached the desk of the one Goblin he recognized and cleared his throat, "Good day. I was wondering if I could be led down to my fault so I may make a withdrawl." Harry presented his key.

With a critical look the Goblin replied, "Of course, Mr. Potter. My name is Gripgook, I will escort you down. Follow me please."

Harry followed the creature to a doorway and entered, taking a seat in the trolley that appeared before them. "I remember. I mean, I remember you showing me down here just a few days ago, Griphook." If the Goblin was surprised he didn't show it. They arrived at the vault within moments and Griphook waited at the entrance to the vault after unlocking it and returning the key to Harry.

Having never properly explored the vault, Harry vowed to return and do so at a later time, but for now he grabbed about 40 galleons and stuffed them in the pockets of his oversized pants. "Thank you Griphook, that will be all." The ride back took a minute or two this time, as they were riding up the track rather than down. The wind whooshed past Harry's face loudly, making it impossible to hold a conversation. Harry enjoyed the ride nonetheless, it reminded him a bit of flying on a broom, and he hadn't done that in a very long htime, he thought fondly.

Back in the main alley his feet carried him swiftly, passing by many shops that had interested him as a child; the magical menagerie, the quidditch store, etc. He didn't have as much interest in them now, and he doubted they had anything he would need at the present time. That didn't leave much save for two stores. The first was Flourish and Blotts. He said hello to the shopkeeper and began scanning the shelves for anything interesting. Quite a few titles caught his eye and Harry made a mental note to remember to buy some more of them the next time he was here. It wouldn't do for him to have too much to carry when he hadn't found his new luggage yet. In the end Harry decided to buy two books on wizarding customs and one on useful everyday charms. It wasn't much in the way of something that would help him win the war, but it was somewhere to start, and he had never really understood some of the wizarding traditions that always seemed so important.

He handed the cashier 6 galleons and stepped outside. His next stop was right across the way. A bell rung as he swung the door opened and looked around. The windows were full of trunks of every size, many with different Hogwarts crests on them. Around the shop there were shelves and bags that held what he recognized as bottomless bags. The boy grinned, remembering how surprised he and Ron had been at Hermione's useful bag when they were on the run.

"Can I help you young man?" An old shopkeeper startled Harry, limping out from the back.

"Ah, yes, I'm looking for a new bag actually. My trunk is completely worn down and I don't think it'll hold through my next school year. I'd prefer a shoulder bag if you have any." Harry eyed the man, he seemed friendly enough.

"Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter! Well of course, I've got just the bag for you! In fact I have many," the man flashed Harry a toothy grin, "A real honor to have you in my shop, you having ended the war as a baby and all. That's how I got my limp you see, fightin' in the war. But nevermind that, let me show you some of my finer wares.

The man led Harry to a table on the right side of the shop, "These here are my latest creation. Enchanted to hold as much as you need, provided you've got a shrinking charm up your sleeve of course. They each come with a secure side pocket, in case you've got a volatile potion or something you need to keep in a certain environment. It can be charmed separately from the rest of the bag, since it's much smaller than the bag itself. The bag has 3 main pockets inside, surrounding the main carrying compartment."

Harry nodded. He had no idea bags were so complex in the wizarding world. "I really like the sound of those features. Uhmn, do you have anything that isn't so... brown?"

"Gah haha, of course, of course. Sorry about that, lad. I was in Durmstrange during my day and I always lean toward bags that go with my old uniform's color scheme. How about one of these?" He held out some color cards for Harry.

The boy took them gratefully and looked them over. "I think I'd like this gray one please."

"Nice choice, gray goes well with everything." The man rung up his purchase and waved his hand over the bag he had shown Harry, changing the color to gray instantly. "That'll be 30 galleons."

Harry handed the man his money, "Thank you Mister..." he trailed off, realising the man had never introduced himself.

"Lynx. The name's Berg Lynx." They shook hands briefly before Harry left with another thank you and a wave. The boy turned down the side of the shop and stopped, taking a deep breath. He wondered if he'd be able to apparate still. He did remember how, and he certainly couldn't return home the way he had come, not at this time of night. He mustered all his focus, his eyes screwed shut, and with a loud pop he was back in his cupboard. He looked himself over critically. Nothing appeared to have splinched. His fingers reached up and grazed over his face. Harry grinned, he still had both his eyebrows, so no problems there.

Harry got out his old trunk put his new bag into it, knowing he wouldn't be able to shrink anything to put into it until he was on the train. He left the book on everyday charms he had bought that day out on his cot, looking forward to reading it before bed that night. Heading out to the kitchen he cringed as he felt a sharp smack on his head. "Hurry up and start dinner! Vernon will be back from picking Dudley up from his play date any minute." If Petunia had noticed Harry's earlier absence she made no mention of it.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

The woman went about setting the table, muttering to herself about her Dudders and how she was sure he must have spent all day after school with his friend studying. Harry almost let a laugh out, that was hysterical. The only thing Dudley ever studied was the television.

Dinner was quiet for Harry, he was expected to go back to his cupboard with a small plate of leftovers from the night before and be thankful he'd gotten that much. Harry had no problems with this, the less time spent around his relatives the better his mood was. It also gave him an opportunity to open up his book and start reading. He spooned up a bite of custard and hummed quietly, enjoying the smooth texture.

Chapter 1, he read silently, Glamour and Appearance Charms. Harry snorted, fumbling to keep from dropping his plate. The chapter was full of little tricks and charms to make one look the best one could, and Harry was quite intrigued. He doubted he'd get much sleep that night. If nothing else, maybe he could defeat Voldemort through sheer good looks alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts

Harry strolled down the platform leisurely. He was pulling his trunk behind him - blasted heavy thing, he thought sourly - and had Hedwig's cage perched atop it. He couldn't wait to get on the train so he could switch it out for his new bag. Harry had always been so confused as a child to see all the other kids at his primary school in the muggle world to have backpacks when he had to carry all his supplies by hand. When he had gone to Hogwarts it had been no different, and it wasn't until his later years that he had indulged in the useful tool. Having his own bag, especially in first year, would help him keep track of his various books and kits much better than before.

Harry stepped left abruptly, barely escaping the path of a large woman in a sharp suit, moving as quickly as her pudgy legs could carry her. Her face was a queer sort of beet red from her overexertion and the boy could practically see the steam coming out of her ears in anger. Someone was having a bad day. Harry was suddenly reminded of his Aunt Marge and chuckled. He had always been terrified of the woman and her aggressive dog, but it all seemed so far away now. He focused his eyes on the task of finding the platform again.

The boy looked ahead and saw half a dozen heads of red hair, bobbing about; the Weasleys. Harry stayed back, letting the family walk through the wall to the real platform before him. The Weasleys had always been a part of Harry's life since he had entered the wizarding world. He wasn't sure whether he should put them in that danger again. He watched Ginny in particular, remembering with a fondness how she had grown to care for him. His eyes were drawn then to Fred and George. Harry felt a knot tie in his gut. This time things would be different, they had to be. He had never forgiven himself for allowing the two brothers to be separated by such cruel twists of fate.

Shaking his head, Harry went through soon after and hopped on to the train, finding an empty compartment and settling in. It was the same one he'd sat in on his first trip on the locomotive, and he was glad the seats were still just as plush as he had remembered them.

It felt good to be on the Hogwarts express once again. Something inside Harry just loved the feel of being in motion, he had decided. Whether he was on his broom, riding the train, or anything else, he savored the experience of the journey to or from somewhere. Harry grinned to himself; he was alone and could use his bag. Before anyone had a chance to find him, Harry quickly opened his trunk. He pointed his wand at his school supplies and muttered a shrinking charm, moving all his school supplies into his new satchel. Finally. He then stored both in the rack above and sat down with his charms book again.

Over the past weekend he had made it up to Chapter 3, Envious Environments. There were a slew of warming charms he thought would be quite useful during his stay at the castle. The walls of stone never seemed to keep all the heat in, and the single large blanket they were given barely helped. He looked over at the charms that lit an area or space and wondered how they were different from Lumos. He'd have to try them out when had got a minute alone.

For the moment, it looked as though he would have to wait. The compartment door slid open, a bright red head of hair peeking it's way dejectedly around the corner, "Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

Harry stared at his old friend thoughtfully. This was a defining moment. Ron had always been Harry's friend, though he certainly hadn't shown it sometimes. "Sure," he replied motioning to the seat across from himself.

"Thanks. Name's Ron, Ron Weasley." The red haired boy grinned, slumping down into the seat.

"Harry Potter," he extended his hand to shake. Ron simply stared.

"Do you have that... that scar?" Ron's eyes were wide, whether in awe or fear Harry still couldn't decide all these years later. He frowned. The boy certainly hadn't cared that he wanted to shake hands. "Sorry, it's just, well I rather promised that if I saw you I'd ask if I could see it. You see my sister's absolutely barking in love with you."

Harry's face fell further. Ginny didn't even know him yet here. She had started to care for him after they had flown out of the chamber of secrets together in Harry's second year. No, he must've misheard. Besides, this was Ron, Harry wasn't sure what in the world he was talking about sometimes but he was a true friend.

Harry threw him what he hoped was an understanding smile and turned back to his book. Ron continued to stare at Harry as he flipped through a few more pages idly. Ohh, now that looked interesting. He had no idea there was a spell that acted like muggle contact lenses.

Suddenly the compartment door flew open, "Ahh, hello. I'd heard Harry Potter was in this compartment. Are you him?" Draco Malfoy eyed Harry warily. It had been a long time since Harry had seen the slytherin with his hair slicked back as it was now. He snickered and the other boy's eyes narrowed, "What is it? What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," Harry replied smoothly, "Sorry where are my manners? Yes, I'm Harry. You must be Draco Malfoy, I've heard quite a bit about your family in the short time I've been in the wizarding world." Harry noted that the blonde's chest puffed out proudly at that. Merlin, was this really the boy that had been so cruel when they met in Diagon Alley? Would he truly try to kill Dumbledore in his sixth year? Of course only to save all their lives only a year later. Perhaps this time, it could be different. This time Harry could change that now. "Won't you sit with us?" He patted the seat next to him.

Malfoy sneered, finally recognizing the other inhabitant of the compartment. "I'm afraid I don't sit with Weasleys. Wouldn't want him to rub off on me," he faked a shudder, Crabbe and Goyle laughing behind him. Ron glared at Malfoy, his face growing redder each second.

"Well all right then. See you around," Harry said easily. The blond almost did a double take, surprised at the sudden dismissal, before exiting the compartment. Harry was glad the encounter had been short. Even if he wasn't sure how to deal with Malfoy yet, the other boy and Ron would surely be explosive if they were let to interact too long.

Harry wondered if he'd ever get any peace to read his book this train ride. His question was answered when a knock was heard at the door. He bit back a groan. Maybe he should've joined a fuller compartment to begin with after all. "Oh come on in then, just shut the ruddy door behind you."

Hermione Granger stepped in, hair bushier than he remembered, and teeth more prominent. Harry was happy to see her, but her old appearance was quite a shock. He hadn't remembered her looking so… well so untamed as a child. Maybe he'd share his charms book with her, particularly the Glamour and Appearance chapter. "You haven't seen a toad have you? A boy named Neville has lost one."

Harry and Ron shook their heads. Hermione spotted the book open on Harry's lap. "Oh, is that about magic?" The girl sat down immediately. "I've read through most of our books' first chapters already. They're fascinating really, although I never really got a chance to try any of the actual spells..."

Harry took out his wand, a smile sliding on to his face. "Would you like to see one?" The girl nodded her head vigorously, Ron watching silently. He took off his glasses and put them over next to Ron. "Accio," Harry whispered. The glasses flew to his open hand and he put them on again.

Hermione giggled, "That was brilliant!"

"That wasn't a first year spell," Ron spluttered.

Harry frowned, "I like reading ahead a bit. Why not learn all we can, right?" Hermione's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He knew it was a very Ravenclaw thing of him to say, and the boy knew that Hermione belonged there. Maybe now that she wasn't convinced he'd go to Gryffindor, she could stay more true to herself.

Ron's face fell a bit, but nodded. "Makes sense. I've got a spell too, you know. Here, I'll show you." Ron said the incantation and pointed his wand at the rat that was scurrying around his lap.

After Ron failed to turn Scabbers yellow, Harry's arm twitched reflexively, itching to grab his wand. Peter Pettigrew had caused him many problems in his last timeline. Going about dealing with the rat would take a great deal of thought, and he vowed to put as much time as possible to it later that year. Like Albus had said, he had time to do things right, and only one chance. The three children spent the train ride exchanging information about themselves, and Harry and Hermione discussed the first few chapters of some of their textbooks. She had a great grasp of the theory behind magic, Harry realized, and he decided to study up as much as possible.

Soon enough the train arrived at their destination, and the trio exited their compartment. Hagrid's familiar voice boomed out from the end of the platform, "Firs' years with me! Firs' years with me!"

The others made their way toward the half-giant while Harry paused for a moment to look over the carriages the older years were getting into. The thestrals were there, clear as day. He reached a hand out to one and it snuffed warm air out of its nostrils in assent. Harry's hand brushed over the beast's nose gently. He was glad none of the other first years seemed to be able to see them. The thought that this would change over the years did nothing good for his mood, so he moved on.

He smiled at Hagrid, who beamed back at him. Harry and the others followed the large man toward Hogwarts, stopping at the lake. They were lumped into boats just as he remembered, though this time he was sat beside Neville, Hermione, and Susan Bones. The latter two had struck up a conversation on what was more important in magic, doing everything correctly, or the intent. Harry was glad to see the girls happy, they'd both had a rough time making friends first year.

As they were handed off to Professor McGonagall, Harry's body began to thrum with excitement. She'd been one of his favorite teachers over his years at Hogwarts, not only with her effective teaching style, but because she truly cared about her students and their futures. He was glad to be back in her care, and back in the care of Hogwarts. She made her short speech, making a sharp, tart impression on the students immediately. Then a softer, "Follow me, please."

Harry entered the great Hall with the same wonder he had the first time. The magical ceiling held hundreds of shimmering candles. The older students at the four houses watched the first years pile in, McGonagall at the lead. Harry looked ahead toward the sorting hat perched on top of a stool. He wondered what it would have to say to him this year.

McGonagall called the first name, "Bones, Susan!" The girl was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff with a small smile. The list went on and on until, "Granger, Hermione!"

The girl walked forward, much more confident looking than she had the last time Harry witnessed this. The hat sat upon her head, muttering to her. "Better be, Ravenclaw," it announced after a full minutes deliberation. The girl gave Harry a little hopeful wave as she went to sit with her new housemates. Harry smiled and waved back. Hermione's whole body seemed to give an excited jump and Harry felt a bit of pity. Hermione had been so desperate for friends in her first year. He hoped she would make even more than just he and Ron, and now that she was in Ravenclaw Harry thought it was certainly possible.

He was pulled out of his reveree by a shout, "Potter, Harry!" The Great Hall went silent, and Harry shuffled forward, allowing the hat to plop down onto his head.

Well, well, Harry Potter. You're an interesting one, aren't you? Qualities of all the houses run strongly in you, oh and I see why! You have much life experience for one who is only a first year. Not to worry, all we discuss is a secret between us alone. You've already tried Gryffindor, and that didn't work out best at all did it? Hmm, and not Hufflepuff, your'e loyal but certainly not loyal enough for that group.

Ravenclaw suited your friend quite well. It would suit you as well. But something about you, something isn't quite right.

Harry almost groaned, it had been several minutes already and the hat was enjoying this far too much.

I wanted to place you in Slytherin, did I? Oh yes I see that would suit you quite well. Much better than the others. In fact... Better be, "Slytherin!"

No one moved for a moment before the hat was yanked from his head and he was pushed gently toward the Slytherin table. He'd been expecting this. He had long ago decided to stay silent this time around, thinking the hat must've had a reason to want to put him in Slytherin last time. So he accepted it. McGonagall gave him a sympathetic look and Harry only smiled back. She had wanted him in her house, he knew.

He sat down close to Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom had been sorted before Harry. Malfoy soon joined them with an upturned nose toward Harry. Clearly the boy had not forgotten about his earlier sudden dismissal.

Harry glanced over toward his friends. Hermione was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, looking about ready to burst into tears. Harry gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave, which seemed to make the girl perk up a bit. Her eyes were very watery. Ron, on the other hand, simply turned away quickly, confusion splashed plain across his face.

Ron was sorted into Gryffinder as he had been before, but Neville was sorted into Hufflepuff. Harry thought it was quite fitting. The boy had always been fiercely loyal, even when many others had abandoned him when Voldemort had returned.

Albus made his speech, warning people off the third floor corridor and to stay away from the Forbidden Forest. Harry wondered if this year he'd have to retrieve the stone again, or if he could take care of Quirrell earlier and complete his year with exams like he should've done. Though if he were honest, he was glad exams had been cancelled in his last timeline, there was no way he would have passed any of them.

His thoughts drifting back to Quirrell, his eyes glanced toward the head table. Quirrell and Snape were speaking in hushed tones just as they had been before, but this time his scar felt fine. There was no tell-tale burning that Voldemort was near, and he smiled in relief... just as Snape turned his eyes on the boy. Harry quickly looked back down at his dinner, not quite ready to face the man yet. His knowledge of Snape's past was still a shock, and he doubted if he could hide those thoughts from the man's subtle legilimency. Besides, he'd much rather stare at his potatoes then stare into the face of Snape's fury. The man would undoubtedly be even worse to him than before now that Harry had been sorted into his house.

Harry finished his dinner in silence, listening to the discussion of those around him. Slytherin house talked about almost the same things Gryffindor house did, save for the fact that Slytherins seemed to talk a bit more about academics and plans for the future. He was surprised to hear such a diversity of jobs come up, such as healers and professors all over the wizarding world. It hadn't occurred to him that there was such a diversity of jobs, and not just in wizarding Britain. He wondered if he would get to have a normal job someday, after this was all over, and if so, what would it be. He definitely didn't want to be an auror any longer.

As dinner ended, their prefect Marcus Flint led them to their dorm rooms and explained the password system and how to navigate the castle. The dungeons would take some getting used to, and the stale air that hung inside them caused more than one student's face to scrunch up..

As they stepped inside the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, they were met by the sight of their sour head of house. His eyes scanned the small crowd, glazing right over Harry as if he didn't exist.. The boy bit back a groan. He could only imagine the earful they were going to hear about proper Slytherin behavior. Yet, as the man began to speak, Harry found himself slightly taken aback. Severus Snape, greasy git, bat of the dungeons… might actually care about his students.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Discussions and Decanters

Severus Snape was a composed man, he prided himself on his ability to control his expression and emotion in front of others. However, when Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin House, Severus Snape choked on his pumpkin juice.

He straightened his back, suddenly in rapt attention with the sorting hat that was being taken off Potter's head. He must have misheard. But no, here was the Headmaster giving him a small nod and smile, his eyes twinkling. Snape scowled, Potter a Slytherin? Impossible. The Potter family had always been sorted into Gryffindor, and with both his parents in the house, the brat was sure to be a brash lion.

There must've been some mistake - but no, there the boy was, suddenly sitting at his table. Potter waved at some girl who had been sorted into Ravenclaw and turned to watch the rest of the sorting. The boy looked much like he thought he would, messy hair, with a round bespectacled face like his fathers. He couldn't tell much else from such a distance. Severus snorted, drawing a confused look from some of the other professors. It wasn't enough that he would have to teach the mini Potter, he would have to advise him as well, as his head of house. Oh how the fates seemed to hate Severus.

Once the sorting had ended, he turned to Quirrell who was talking toward him about vampires in Romania, or some such nonsense. He really was quite dull, and that stutter was so annoying Snape had to muster up every bit of his control not to strangle the other man right then and there. After about a half hour of listening to the Defense Professor's insane babbling, he saw the man's eyes drift away from him, out over the students, a strange gleam in his eyes. Snape turned his head to follow the other man's gaze and was met with the - smiling? relieved? how strange - face of Harry Potter. The boy quickly looked away, good. He didn't want to look at that familiar face any longer than necessary.

Soon enough dinner was at an end and the students were being led away by the prefects to their common rooms, which meant it was time for him to go too. Severus Snape stormed out of the great hall, robes billowing menacingly behind him. This was not the first year that he was dreading making his speech to the first years in the Slytherins in the common room, but it was certainly the first year he was this emotional while doing so. The fact that the boy, Lily's boy, had been sorted into Slytherin, it was unimaginable. Now he would have to watch the boy grow, help him even, all the while being taunted by the haunting face of his old nemesis, James Potter. He debated grabbing some liquid courage before tending to the students, but thought better of it.

The students looked apprehensive coming into the common room for the most part. Draco Malfoy merely looked proud, eyeing his new surroundings up, assessing their worth. He knew Lucius had already made sure the boy knew how to behave while attending classes. Hopefully, Draco would be able to do so. He certainly didn't want to be the one to write to Lucius about any mischief the boy might get into.

The Potter boy was a picture of pure curiosity. His eyes seemed to glaze over most of the room, not very interested in anything in particular. Of course, he wouldn't be, the spoiled brat that Snape was sure he was. But there wasn't time to think about that right now.

Flint nudged the brats forward and gave the Professor a toothy grin. The boy was hoping to be made captain of the Quidditch team this year. Pathetic.

"Welcome to Slytherin," he began. He'd stick to his usual speech, he'd decided. There would be no need to add any additional warnings or comforts, he certainly didn't want to coddle the students anymore than they already no doubt had been; his eyes narrowed at Potter. "People will no doubt be quick to remind you of the dark wizards that have come from this house, and that they expect similar things from you. However, this is the house for the ambitious, the cunning. You are expected to behave well, win points for your house, and work hard to succeed. You will reflect your house and therefore me as well. I will not have any of you making me look bad." He saw some of the students shrink into themselves, frightened. Good. But there was another reason for making this speech as well.

His tone softened slightly, "If any of you have concerns throughout the year, or about your holidays my doors will be open to you all during my usual office hours. I believe in upholding the utmost discretion in regards to anything you may need help with, including Hogwarts life, and your home life." Almost every year he dealt with students that were scared to go home for the holidays, specifically those from the known darker families.

His tone stiffened again, "Remember this, your goal at Hogwarts isn't to have fun, it is to create a future for yourself and to succeed. Both on your own and with your classmates, by which of course I mean winning the house cup. Should you need assistance in your classes, Slytherin house has an established tutoring system for students to help each other. The tutoring board is on the wall over there," he made a sweeping motion toward the mantle above the fireplace, "I suggest you make use of it once classes begin. I will pass out your schedules at breakfast tomorrow morning. That will be all."

Snape quickly swept through the first years, students parting immediately to avoid being knocked over. The faster he could get out of here, the better. The first day back of the school year, and already he needed to unwind.

He trekked back to his chambers briskly, the biting chill of the dungeon air assaulting him at every turn as he went deeper into the castle. Reaching his study, Severus decided a large glass of brandy would make him feel better, hell why not just go for the decanter. The man faced his portrait of Salazar Slytherin and spoke, "Aconite."

The potions master slumped down into his armchair by the fire immediately after grabbing his drink. He could relax, alone here in his quarters. He took a sip of his brandy and hummed, feeling the liquid go down. An immediate warmth spread through him, maybe the year wouldn't be so bad after all. His godson was here, that was a plus, and he could make sure the Potter boy behaved in his own house. Not only that but with the other teachers holding a soft spot for Potter, he might be able to win the house cup this year again.

He imagined the look on Minerva's face when his house won the cup yet again, and with the knowledge that she had helped, by coddling Potter with extra points, as she no doubt would.

With each thought he drank more brandy, sips becoming gulps, and suddenly his decanter was lighter than it had been what seemed like moments ago. He wondered at the marvels of alcohol, as he often did, and silently questioned if that was the real reason he had become a potions master. Of course, he loved the subject dearly, combining new ingredients and testing the solutions was a sort of thrill he had only known from the Dark Arts before, and the latter subject was certainly out of the question these days. As his thoughts drifted dangerously close to his own hearth and home, he blinked, alcohol still ensnaring his sense, but gone from the forefront of his mind.

He looked at the clock. Two hours and a half decanter of brandy later, he slipped out of his armchair and into his bed. He might as well get some sleep, the next day was going to be a long one.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: First Classes

To say that Harry was excited to start classes would be an understatement. He had gotten up early to make sure he had all his materials organized for the day. He had his required books in his bag, as well as his potions and transfiguration kits in a side pocket. He went into the large bathroom in the Slytherin common room and looked into the mirror. He didn't have his robes on yet but his muggle clothes draped around him like thick curtains. Remembering an appearance charm from his new book, he pointed his wand at the offensive rags and muttered the spell. His clothes seemed to grow in reverse, shrinking until they fit snugly against him. In spite of the disgust Harry felt at being able to see his ribs through his shirt, Harry grinned - he loved magic.

After making a point to start taking better care of himself (i.e. actually try to eat at meals) and finishing up his morning hygiene routine, Harry went back up to his dormitory. He was pleased that the drapes were different than the ones in Gryffindor tower. They were thicker, to keep out the cold dungeon air, and they were a rich green embroidered with silver and black swirls. If Harry concentrated real hard he swore he could see them move, like snakes slithering around one's bed. Harry wondered if it was a trick of the eyes, or perhaps an actual enchantment.

The beds were the same, most everything else was the same as well, though that was to be expected. The houses really didn't differ much when it came to anything but their students. Harry popped open his trunk and grabbed his robes, wriggling them on over his other clothes. They'd taken on a small Slytherin emblem overnight and he ran his fingers over the stitching with a small frown. It would take some getting used to. His other dormmates - Malfoy, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle - were just getting up, and Harry said good morning to them all before quickly heading down to breakfast.

As Harry slid into his seat at the Slytherin table the edges of his mouth quirked up. Chocolate chocolate chip muffins were on the table today, his favorite. He grabbed four, excited to be able to eat his fill now that he was at Hogwarts. He pulled out his transfigurations textbook and flipped it open, hoping to get a solid headstart into his classes.

Before he could delve too far into the text, Blaise Zabini slid in next to him, "Morning, Potter. Transfigurations, eh?"

Harry jumped. He replied, "Oh, morning Zabini. Yeah, it's pretty interesting."

"I'm looking forward to seeing how McGonagall will teach it that's for sure, since I've heard she's an animagus." The boy smirked, pleased with his 'secret' knowledge. Harry could see the Slytherin cunning bursting at the other boy's seams. There was certainly nothing wrong with wanting to put your best foot forward when making someone's acquaintence.

Harry smiled, "Yeah, that will be cool. I hope we can see her transform." The other boy had made an effort to approach him kindly, and Harry didn't want to put a damper on his spirits by asserting that he'd already known about their feline professor.

"That'd be wicked," the other boy grinned. "Anyway, I see Draco, so I'm gonna go grab a seat next to him. His family and mine go way back, I'm sure you understand. See you later?"

Harry nodded. He'd never actually interacted with Blaise Zabini before, but the boy seemed nice enough. Besides, it would help to have a bridge to Malfoy, even if he didn't become friends with the blonde-haired wizard. Of course, he didn't want to just use Zabini as a stepping stone, and he had never really been particularly cruel to Harry previously, so he certainly deserved a real chance at friendship. Harry shrugged to himself and went back to his reading.

He had gotten through almost 3 chapters of theory when Professor Snape stopped next to him and thrust a piece of paper in his direction - his schedule, Harry realized. He took it with a small smile at the man, refusing to meet his eyes, "Thank you, sir."

The dour professor sneered, but said nothing, and continued on to the next student. Harry sighed, well that was certainly the most civil he could hope for, he supposed. As much as he wanted to dedicate himself to his studies this year, he really wasn't looking forward to potions class any more than when he'd come to Hogwarts previously.

Spying a 5th year's _tempus_ our of the corner of his eye, Harry snagged his bag and made his way toward his first class, Transfiguration. Knowing his way around the castle had it's advantages, and he made it with time to spare, entering and seeing Professor McGonagall in her cat form in the front of the room. He stared at her for a moment, having never taken the time to fully appreciate the complexity of her animagus form before. The sleek gray fur shone like her customary green clock. He wondered why she wore that color, she certainly seemed to prefer the Gryffindor red and gold in all other aspects of life.

Harry took his seat deliberately, in the front row. He took out his Transfiguration book and opened it up to the first practical application chapter, halfway through the book. He looked over the pages critically as the rest of the students trickled into the room, finding their seats awkwardly and glancing at the Professor with curiosity, confusion, and in some cases excitement. They would no doubt be disappointed to find out the animagus transformation wasn't something they would be learning until their seventh year, if they chose to take the class that far.

The clock tower struck 9 and class began. Professor McGonagall swiftly jumped off her desk, and transformed back into her human form mid-air. She held up a hand to silence the chatter that ensued. "Good morning, students, and welcome to your first Transfiguration class. I believe in teaching both theory and practice, so before anything else, I'd like to give you your homework for tomorrow."

The students' eyes popped. An assignment already, before the class had even properly begun? Their collective displeasure was obvious. "Our class time is best spent on practical application, so I want you all to read the first 2 chapters on theory of the subject by tomorrow. I won't have you write anything on it, just be sure to know the basics well."

The students breathed a sigh of relief. At least they wouldn't have to break out the parchment just yet. Harry smiled. It was good to be back to the simple early days of Hogwarts. He had really been given a great gift.

The professor explained the task at hand, turning a matchstick into a needle, and stressed that visualization and correct pronunciation was very important. The students began to start their attempts at basic transfiguration. Harry's eyes were drawn across the classroom to the Ravenclaw side after he heard the first utterance of the incantation. Hermione had gotten it on her first try. The Professor seemed to glow as she inspected the girl's work, "Beautifully done, Miss Granger. 5 points to Ravenclaw." Hermione's large teeth shone brightly as she smiled, and went about trying to transform it back, an even easier task.

Harry returned to his own task. He looked critically at the splinter of wood and imagined it taking on a silver gleam, and narrowing into a point. When he could see it clearly enough he pointed the tip of his wand at the match on his desk and murmured the spell. Just as he'd imagined, a needle emerged. Harry picked it up and rolled it between his fingers, it certainly felt like a real needle to the touch, but the end wasn't as pointy as he'd hoped it would be, and the hole for the thread was a little larger than most sewing needles. Nevertheless, he was pleased, and so was the professor, as she complimented him on his effort, "Well done, Mister Potter," before moving over to check on the next students progress.

When the class had ended, only 5 other students had managed to turn their matches into needles. The rest of the class seemed disappointed, but the professor urged that after reading some theory they would be able to do better tomorrow. On a happy note, the students departed the room, heading to their next classes. Harry stopped Hermione on the way out since she was on her own, "Hey Hermione. I just wanted to say, I know we were sorted into different houses and we won't have all our classes together, but maybe we could meet up and study in the library sometime? If you'd like, that is."

Hermione beamed in reply, "I'd love to Harry! I can't wait to start studying all the subjects more in depth. The theory is absolutely fascinating, and I've already read the first few chapters and - oh, sorry. I'm probably boring you."

"No, not at all," Harry gave her a small smile, "I've read the first few chapters as well. It'd be nice to discuss them with someone. Anyway, I have potions next, so I'll see you in charms?" The girl nodded, and they separated, Harry making his way toward the dungeons.

He arrived with the rest of the students, Slytherin and Gryffindor. They took their seats, the professor not yet in the room. Curious eyes around the room glanced at the shelves around them, stockpiled high with jars filled with questionable contents. The door slammed shut and the room gave a collective shudder. Snape stepped up to the tall podium he had in front of the class, and the wood creaked as he leaned his elbows on it to look down on them more closely. He immediately began taking roll and called off the names with boredom in his voice, going down the list. The man didn't stop at his name this time to antagonize, inflicing that rather on Ron this time around. "Mister Weasley. Another Weasley, wonderful. I do hope your potions equipment is clean. I've had too many Weasley's blowing up cauldrons with their subpar materials and I won't tolerate any explosions from you." He narrowed his eyes icely at the boy before moving on to the lesson.

Snape said his speech, just as Harry remembered, but the words sounded more hollow to him than before. When he had first heard it he'd had goosebumps on his arms, and his heart pounded, but his excitement was stolen short when Snape had called him out in front of the class. This time, he didn't try to take notes on the man's speech, merely listen, and the words meant less than before. Harry knew now that you couldn't bottle glory - though Felix Felicis certainly came close - and that you certainly couldn't put a stopped on death. The class ended with Snape telling them their work that was due by the end of the week: a foot of parchment on the properties of ingredients on their own and when put together. They were dismissed, and Harry was relieved for the free time the lunch period allowed. He was really supposed to go to flying lessons during this time, but that was one thing Harry thought he could stand to skip. He might lose his place on the Quidditch team his first year, but he didn't need any more teaching in the art of flying a broom.

Harry grabbed two sandwiches from the great hall before heading down to the Black Lake to relax. As he ate, he inspected the thin golden bracelet that was secured around his wrist. He hadn't been able to take it off, no matter how much he'd tried, but it didn't really bother him. It was strange, certainly, but the longer he spent looking at it, the less he wanted to remove it. Something about it felt very much like Hogwarts, very much like home, and while he thought that was rather silly since he didn't even know what it was, he was used to being drawn in by the unknown; he'd been drawn in by magic from the minute he'd been assured of it's existence.

His sandwiches were tasty, and he ate all but two bites of ham, throwing it in for the creatures of the lake. When he'd been down in the deep of the lake in his fourth year, all the merpeople and grindylows had looked emaciated, and Harry wasn't sure whether they had enough to eat, or if that was just their appearance. Picking up the rest of his belongings, Harry cast a quick tempus and realized he had to hurry. With a bounce in his step, Harry made his way back to the castle toward the DADA classroom.

The rest of the day passed rather eventlessly. DADA was a joke, just as it had been for most of Harry's time at Hogwarts. Quirrell stuttered his way through some personal stories about his time in Romania, and the students tried to nod respectfully while their eyes teared up from the abbrasive odour of garlic in the room. Charms went about the same as Transfigurations had, Hermione mastering the charm with ease, and Harry following soon after. As the rest of the students made their way to dinner, Harry decided to make his way back to his dorm room instead. He had eaten a lot for breakfast and lunch, and he wanted to get in a bit of reading before bed.

Harry sat down on his bed with a sigh and, remembering a spell from his everyday charms book, waved his wand to draw the curtains around himself. Secluded in his nest, the boy-who-lived summoned his potions book and set out on starting the foot of parchment that was due by the weeks end. As he began to fully read the theory behind the properties of ingredients when mixed together, Harry's brow furrowed. Not only did the properties change depending on how they were prepared, but the preparation method could greatly affect the properties of mixing that ingredient with another! Now that he thought about it, and looked through the diagrams, Harry thought that this actually made quite a bit of sense, and he didn't understand why he hadn't known this before. Potions was really just like cooking, and while he hated cooking for his relatives, Harry quite enjoyed cooking for himself. The only time he'd enjoyed himself during the trio's trip to hunt down horcruxes was when they'd settled in and Harry had made their meal for the night.

As Harry heard the rest of his roommates come in and settle down for the night, he felt his own eyelids flutter, weighed down by the need for sleep. His last thought before his eyes shut tight was that he would have to give potions a bigger effort than he had previously. If it truly turned out to be like cooking, Harry thought that he would quite enjoy this school year even more than he had hoped.


	6. Chapter 6

(Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted a chapter of this. I'm getting back into it and will be posting chapters more regularly now that I'm nearing the end of my bachelors degree. Please review and let me know what you think, if you like it, or if you have suggestions or criticism. Also feel free to PM me if you just wanna say hey. :) Things will start to pick up a bit and move faster for the next few chapters before slowing down again. Hope you enjoy.

Anyway, on with the show!)

Chapter 6 - Levi-O -Sa

Draco Malfoy was a fickle boy. Now this wasn't to say that he wasn't very caring of his decisions, just that he was indecisive in making one and continuing through thinking it was the right one. Therefore, when Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin house he was faced with a monumental decision. Should he befriend the boy or not?

When he had first met the boy-who-lived in Diagon Alley, they didn't quite get along - of course this was Draco's opinion, and he thought that this particular issue was easily salvaged simply by gracing the other boy with his positive attention - but there was another, bigger problem. Harry Potter was certain to be the poster boy child of the light as he grew older. Even at such a tender age Draco held no illusions that his parents, and by extension himself, were going to be on the same side as Potter if - and if his father were here he would correct him, "Not if, when," - a war came to fruition. The only sensible thing Draco could think of to do was to ask his father about the matter, and perhaps his godfather, since the man was rather sensible when it came to sensitive matters.

So after waking up on the first day of classes to Potter exiting the room with a cheerful good morning, Draco quickly inked out a letter to his father, describing his situation. He proudly announced his own house, though it would be of little surprise, and asked for help in untangling the curious web that was his situation with Potter. He also asked if he would be going home for the holidays, since it was his first year, and while he was already enjoying his time at the magical school, he missed his father and mother dearly.

Having an older student show him the way to the owlery, he dropped off his letter before heading to breakfast, getting there just in time to see Blaise Zabini spot him from across the room and walk over, abandoning his position next to the boy-who-lived. The darker skinned boy greeted him, and slid down next to him on the bench of the table.

"Morning, Blaise. Talking to Potter, eh?" Malfoy tried his best to keep his face blank like his father did, but a frown slipped through. Hopefully his owl wouldn't be slow as a slug in getting his letter delivered. Blasted thing seemed to fly leisurely on purpose, just to infuriate him.

Zabini nodded, "Yeah, he's all right I suppose. Not quite sure what to make of him yet. I'm looking forward to classes though. I hope we don't have to take any joint classes with the Gryffindors." The boy's nose turned up and his eyes narrowed over toward the offending table across the hall.

Draco agreed, nodding, "I'm sure we won't. They wouldn't be stupid enough to place us with our rival house for classes as dangerous as potions." That was the class Draco was looking forward to the most. His godfather had taught him a few of the basics when he was a child, and while he didn't particularly enjoy the art, he was sure to be better at it than most of his classmates. The practical experience alone would set him miles ahead, not to mention the fact that his godfather was going to be teaching them. He gave a small inward smirk, before returning to his conversation with Blaise.

"So what were you and Potter talking about?"

The other boy grinned, "Some spells actually. Turns out living with muggles didn't taint him the way everyone thought it would. He's quite knowledgeable actually."

Draco felt his mouth open wide, agape, "You can't be serious" he looked at the other boy doubtfully. "Well I'll just have to see for myself today I suppose in class." He noticed Severus start to make his way down the table, handing out time schedules.

"Draco. Here is your schedule. Let me know if you start to struggle with any of your classes. Your father has asked me to tutor you if you ever feel the need." The potions master nodded when his godson smiled up at him, then moved on.

Blaise elbowed the other boy, "Lucky! I bet Professor Snape will favor you quite a bit this year, especially with the riff raff this school has taken on," he turned toward the Gryffindor table, glancing at the grouping of red hair bobbing up and down over full plates.

Draco grinned, "Yeah, but don't get the wrong idea. I would have his respect even if he weren't my godfather. I plan on doing quite well in my classes. Speaking of, let's go. Looks like we've got Transfigurtaion first."

The boys collected their bags and headed out. Transfiguration passed uneventfully. Draco had managed to transfigure the needle appearance quite easily, while Blaise had struggled. The rest of the day was almost unnecessary in Draco's opinion, teachers just going over their syllabi, save for Charms class.

Charms was the only other class than Transfiguration where they had gotten to do a practical assignment on the first day. Levitating a feather sounded quite simple, but as they began Draco realized not many people were having much luck. He had been seated next to a Ravenclaw girl by the name of Granger. She had succeeded on her very first try and Draco had been impressed. While some others scowled at her, Draco whispered, "How are you doing that? I keep saying Levio-sa and it's just not working."

Granger had looked over at him with a small smile, "You've got to say Levi-O-sa, not Levio-SA. The latin pronunciation can be tricky, but if you come at it from a multilingual approach it's a lot easier. I took French lessons at my old school so it's a bit easier for me."

Draco nodded. So the girl had taken French lessons. She must be of refined blood and breeding then. With a small smirk Draco oustretched a hand to her, "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. It's a pleasure Miss Granger." His chest puffed up a bit when he saw her blush. She wasn't the most attractive girl, but the red tinge suited her. Then again, who wouldn't blush when introduced to a Malfoy, he thought proudly.

The Granger girl shook his hand lightly, then went back to trying to maneuver her feather around. Draco quickly returned to his task as well. "LeviOsa," he muttered, swishing and flicking his wand toward his white nemesis. The feather shook for a moment, then started to slowly float upwards. He may have been a bit late to the party, Miss Granger and Harry Potter both having accomplished it before him, but he was proud he had succeeded before anyone else.

After classes ended, Draco pulled Blaise aside and murmured, "I've got to go talk to Professor Snape about something. I'll see you later in the dorms."

Blaise nodded before heading over to join Potter in returning to their rooms.

Making his way down toward the dungeons, Draco stopped in front of a portrait of Salazar Slytherin. Looking around to make sure no one was around he whispered, "Aconite." The portrait opened and Draco scurried inside. "Uncle Severus, are you here?"

A low voice beckoned, "Come in, Draco. Take a seat on the couch."

Draco did as instructed and entered the professor's den, sitting down primly on the sofa. The professor was sitting at a desk in the corner, scratching away intensely at some papers. "Hello Uncle Severus. I was hoping to speak with you about something."

Obsidian eyes raised to meet his, and the quill was set down, "Of course, Draco. What seems to be the problem?"

Draco gulped. There was really no way to ask this without just getting into the thick of it. "Well you see, I owled father this morning. While we were shopping in Diagon Alley before school started, I met Harry Potter you see, but I'm afraid I wasn't very nice to him, and he seemed to hate me. Now he's in Slytherin, which is completely barmy, and he seems like he doesn't hate me anymore and I have no idea what to do! Should I be his friend? Should I act like he's an incompetent waste of space? I have no idea what to do, especially now that Blaise has told me he's actually quite smart. I didn't believe him at first but then I saw how easily Potter seemed to succeed in his classes, coming second only to Miss Granger from Ravenclaw, and I just want to know if he'd be useful at all... " Draco trailed off, suddenly sensing the look of malice on his godfather's face.

Severus was very quiet as he spoke, an intensity to his words, "Potter you say? I couldn't believe Potter was a Slytherin, let alone a competent one. However, his other instructors do seem to think the boy has talent." He chose his words carefully here, "As to whether or not you should befriend him, I would advise you to do whatever pleases you. There may be a day when your friendship could become, ah, strained. However if you think the risk is worth taking, then you should do so. As for the Granger girl," Snape began, changing the topic slightly. However Draco cut him off.

"Yes I met Miss Granger in our Charms class today. It seems we will be partners this year. She seems quite intelligent, and from the right breeding." Draco held his head up high, as if waiting for praise upon recognizing someone from good stock.

Severus barked out a laugh, "Oh that's good, coming from you Draco. A Malfoy! What a fascinating turn." He calmed down and began speaking very seriously, "Would it shock you to know that the Granger girl has two muggle parents?"

"You mean she's a mudblo -"

"Do not say that word!" Severus cut the boy off angrily, then more softly, "You must realize that I despise that word. And that due to her origin Granger is likely to be despised by many of your fellow Slytherins. However, in the opinion of some," Snape grew very still as he spoke, "that would not matter at all."

Draco frowned. His thoughts were swimming, not sure what to make of this new found information. He would have to sleep on it. Perhaps for more than a single night. "All right. Well, thank you Uncle Severus. I should get going now I suppose, as it's almost curfew." His uncle gave him a tight nod and he fled the chambers, hurrying back to his dormitory. He still wasn't certain what he should do, but he definitely had lots to think about.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hey all! Hope you're having a great week/weekend so far. I just got through with my final exams for the quarter and I'll just say it, they were brutal. I thought my Japanese Lit final would be the easiest but it ended up being the hardest and we'll just have to wait and see if I passed it. Anyway, this chapter I wrote just beforehand and the next chapter is something I'm writing now, after the fact. So it may take me another few days to get the next chapter up. Expect it sometime late next week, I think. I'm going to try to get it up before my local anime convention next week (Sakuracon) so that I can enjoy the con without feeling the need to get online and post something.**

 **Also, I am getting very interested in developing various other characters in different ways in this fic besides justHarry and Severus, so please shoot me a PM or a review and let me know if there are any characters you really want to be "good," "bad," etc. Harry and Severus will certainly be the main focus, especially in later chapters/years, but Harry's school friends and maybe even some of Severus' acquaintences, will need to be included to make the story more interesting.**

Chapter 7 - Potions and Pals

Harry and Blaise had been discussing Quidditch when Draco returned to their rooms. Nott, their final roommate, had already turned in for the night, and would not be woken again until morning. None of the other boys had ever met such a heavy sleeper.

"So what's your favorite team then? I'm a fan of the Hollyhead Harpies myself," Blaise grinned, motioning to Harry to join him on the floor. Their dorm was much more spacious than Gryffindor tower had been, but Harry grimaced as he sat down, the floor hard and cold beneath him.

"I like the Bulgarian team. Strong and direct they are," Harry replied as he muttered a softening charm on the floor under his bum. "Still cold, but better than nothing," He shrugged at Blaise's look. He quickily muttered the warming charm he had read about in his charms book as well. Much better.

The door opened and Draco entered, pausing at the sight of Blaise and Harry on the floor. "Why are you lot on the floor?"

Harry grinned at him, "Blaise seems to think it's more comfortable than the beds. With a softening charm in the right place, he might be right."

"A softening charm?" Draco grimmaced as he sat down with them, much closer to Blaise than the boy-who-lived. "Didn't think we'd learned one of those yet."

Blaise passed Draco Harry's Everyday Charms book, "Harry got this from Flourish and Blotts before school. It's quite useful. Even has bloody beautician charms, it does. That Ravenclaw Granger could use some of those," the boy smirked.

Draco shot him a look as he skimmed the book, "She's not that bad. Besides, she's doing a right bit better in classes so far than you are." Blaise looked suitably mollified."Besides , Bullstrode's the one who needs some beautician charms," Malfoy smirked.

And in that moment, Harry's estimation of Draco Malfoy rose about one hundred percent. "Hermione is a really smart witch," he offered. "She and I are going to study in the library next week after class, if you guys would like to join us."

Draco seemed to consider it for a moment, "Maybe."

Blaise nodded, any help he could get on his homework was good in his books.

"Well," Harry began, "Best I get some sleep. I plan on getting up early tomorrow and enjoying a nice long breakfast."

The other boys nodded and they all got up and went over to their respective beds. "Night then Blaise, Draco."

The other boys said nothing but turned out the lights and soon the room was filled with quiet snores.

The next morning found Harry quickly exiting the showers just as the rest of his dorm began to awake. He started to put his bag together while he waited for his dorm mates. He would certainly need his potions text for today, since they would start brewing, as well as his notebook to take notes in for his other classes. Harry also shrunk one of his wizarding traditions books into his bag so he could read during lunch. At the rate he was going he would need more books to read for leisure by Christmas time and he vowed to start making a list of possible topics he'd like to read up on.

Soon enough the others joined him and they made their way down to breakfast. He sat with Blaise and Draco, Blaise separating the two. Harry could tell Draco still wasn't sure what to make of him, but was glad they weren't still acting like the mortal enemies they had once been in a different time.

Harry quickly swiped a muffin and began munching, opening up his wizarding customs book on the table.

Blaise nudged him, "Reading up on wizarding custom, eh? Good thing those muggles didn't beat all the magical tradition out of you" he joked. He didn't notice Harry freeze momentarily at the mention of beatings, before he understood the other boy was just joking.

"Yeah well, I've never been taught or trained to do anything properly, manners wise. So I guess I'm just looking to fit in where I feel like I could actually belong. Let me know if I start offending someone with my table manners" Harry joked back. He had truly started to enjoy Blaise's company, save for the occassional muggle mentions and digs toward other students like Hermione.

Draco remained silent until it was time to go to class, and he and Blaise hurried off, hoping to be early, leaving Harry to finish the third chapter in his book. He was fascinated by all the information the book had to offer. He had never known that families were so important to the wizarding world, especially marriages, children, and heirs. He wondered who was considered his family, if his muggle relatives were closer or his godfather Sirius.

Another interesting fact was that all marriages seemed to be legal in the wizarding world, heterosexual or otherwise. Suddenly an image of Seamus Finnegan floated into his mind from his other time, their sixth year when he had confessed to being gay, and only Harry had been surprised. That explained a lot, he supposed.

Closing his book, he grabbed a beignet and headed out of the great hall, toward Transfiguration. Harry sat by Hermione again, "Hey there. How are you liking the Ravenclaw dorms so far?"

Hermione grinned, "Hello Harry. Oh they're just brilliant! You have to solve a riddle to get in, and sometimes they're even just defintions you have to name. I feel like I'm learning so much already! What about you? How is Slytherin?" The girl gushed, her face lighting up at their interaction.

Harry smiled back at her, so glad that they were still friends in this time. She had always been encouraging toward him no matter what, "They're pretty great. I saw you met Draco Malfoy the other day in Charms. He's one of my roommates, he and Blaise and Theodore Nott. It's pretty big in the rooms, but cold, and a bit too hard without a softening charm."

Hermione eyed him with intrigue, "Softening charm? We haven't learned that yet. Did you read about it?" At Harry's nod she continued, "Oh Harry you have to lend me the book you saw it in, please? I'd love to use it on the benches in the great hall."

"Of course, Hermione. I'll bring it to our study session next week. Oh I hope you don't mind, I actually invited Draco and Blaise to that. They seemed interested." Harry looked at her intensely, wanting to make sure she really didn't mind.

"Oh Harry, that's fine. The more the merrier." Her face flushed a bit, "And yeah, I met Draco the other day. He seemed very polite."

Harry moved to say something else, but class had begun. He sat back and took out his notebook, ready to take notes on the subject.

McGonagall began to drone on about what they'd read the night before, the theory behind intention and imaging in transfiguration. When they finally got to the practical part of the lesson, they were asked to transfigure some supplied books into their transfiguration texts. More of the class succeeded this time, and Professor McGonagall was pleased with the class's improvement.

Once Harry had achieved it he looked inside and was startled to see that the text wasn't full of words. The first two chapters were filled in quite a bit, as well as pieces of the rest of the text, but the majority of the words were missing, leaving blank pages. Hermione looked over at Harry's text and quickly looked inside hers, finding a similar effect.

Hermione raised her hand, "Professor, why would something like this happen? Is it just not a full transfiguration that we accomplished?"

McGonagall looked down at their texts before replying, "No no, you both did quite well, however, you can't imitate what you don't already know. If there are pieces in the work you don't understand or don't know, perhaps even that just slipped your mind, it won't appear in your transfiguration. You could fill it in with something else, but it is much more advanced. This can be a good way to study what you aren't sure of quite yet however, and to discover what you may not know well enough yet."

The other students seemed to be looking in their books now, and McGonagall sighed as the bell rang. "Wonderful work everyone. Ten points to each house I think for effort and success. Your next homework assignment will be a long one. I want two feet due after holiday break on your choiec of topic. You may write about anything we learn between now and then. I expect thoughtfulness and creativity more than anything! Good luck."

The students filed out of class quickly, heading to their next scheduled classes. Harry rushed down to the dungeons, hoping to seat himself next to someone he knew so that he wouldn't have an idiot brewing partner for the rest of the year. Once he arrived he saw that Blaise had sat himself next to Nott, and not many seats were left. One was next to Draco, the others next to Millicent Bullstrode and Goyle. WIth a grimace at the other two seats he plopped down next to Malfoy.

"Hey," he said quietly, taking out his potions text and setting up his tools.

Draco looked at him oddly, "Hey."

Snape cut off any further conversation by sweeping into the room. "Everyone take out your books and tools, we will be brewing today. As some of you may have noticed you have been seated in pairs today, and will be working with whomever you are sitting next to for the rest of the year. Now, today we will be working on a simple healing potion. Instructions can be found in your book on page fifty-six." He waited a moment and no one moved, "Well, what are you waiting for? You barely have enough time as it is!"

The students began to scramble, opening their books and rushing to the ingredients cupboard. Harry started gazing over the recipe. The main ingredients seemed to be garlic and dittany, with some other various additives. Draco seemed to be coming back with the ingredients for the potion and looked at Harry expectantly.

"What part do you want to do? I'll do any of it I don't really care."

Harry nodded, "I can handle the garlic and the willow root if you'd like, if you can take the dittany and matcha leaves."

Draco raised an eyebrow but got to work on his half of the ingredients. Harry took his garlic and began mincing it as the instructions dictated. The willow root could be chopped simply enough but the garlic took more time and care to mince properly. Once their ingredients had been prepared, Harry and Draco looked at each other for confirmation before beginning to brew the contents of their cauldron, stirring every few minutes. By the time class was up, they bottled their pale green concoction and brought it to the front.

Snape's eyebrow rose at the perfect shade of their potion, "Mr. Malfoy, commendable work. Mr. Potter, hopefully next time you will rely on your skill, or lack thereof, to assist in the potion rather than let Mr. Malfoy do all the work." The man sneered at the boy-who-lived.

Draco frowned, "Actually Unc- Professor Snape, sir, Harry took the hard part. I only handled the matcha leaves and dittany." The look of surprise on his godfathers face almost made him giggle. Never before had he seen Severus make THAT expression.

"Well then," the potions master replied sourly, "Perhaps I was mistaken. Do try to continue this lucky streak, as it seems you're on, Mister Potter."

Harry nodded tightly, "Yes, Professor Snape, sir. I'll do my very best." He gave the man a small grin before turning away and heading out of the room. Catching Snape off guard AND getting him to admit he had made a mistake? Today was going very well indeed.

As lunch arrived Harry once again grabbed some sandwiches from the great hall and made his way outside, to eat and give his leftovers to the creatures of the black lake. Somehow he had the impression Hagrid didn't pay as much attention to the lake as he did the forest.

By the time he had finished lunch, he had also finished his first book on wizarding traditions. Wizarding life was actually very similar to how Harry imagined noble life would be like in the muggle world. Blood wasn't so important as family name and recognition. However, because blood almost always equated to recognition and family name, it seemed to too often be used interchangably with the term.

Shrinking his book into his bag, Harry rushed back up to the castle, lots of studying to be done for the next few days. He hoped to finish his first year books and second wizarding tradition book by the end of the week, so he could focus on creating his list of future books to purchase.

Walking back up to the castle, Harry grinned as he saw an orange tabby cat scatter across the field. He would have to see about getting Hermione her beloved Crookchanks before third year. The cat could be enormously helpful in outing Pettigrew now that he wasn't a Gryffindor with access to the rat. Maybe he would even let the cat play with the rat for a while, he deserved all the terror Crookchanks could instill. Harry's grin widened at the thought.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed after the last chapter, and special thanks to the reviewer who wished me luck with my test. You must be magic because our professor decided to drop our lowest test score so I ended up passing the class easily. In other more relevant to this story news, I want to thank everyone who reviewed and mentioned that Hermione didn't get Crookshanks until third year. I had completely forgotten and have fixed the last chapter so that it makes more sense, and will fit this story better. Thank you so much again. Hope you enjoy the latest chapter and are having a lovely day/night! :)

Chapter 8 - The Library and Holiday Plans

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, and the next week was going by just as quickly. Suddenly it was time for Harry's study date with Hermione. After classes the pair had agreed to meet in the library, Harry passing on the message to Blaise and Draco if they were still interested. As Harry arrived he was pleased to see Hermione looking through the stacks for some new reading material. She seemed to gravitate toward the Charms section, as well as Tranfiguration.

"Hey Hermione," Harry called out, getting him an immediate _SHUSH_ from Madam Pince, the librarian. He cringed a bit, "Sorry, hey Hermione," he said a bit softer.

The witch grinned at him, "Hey Harry. I was just looking for something new to read. Did you bring that Charms book with you that has the softening charm in it?" Harry nodded and held out the book to her, "Brilliant! Thank you so much Harry, I'll try to get it back to you by the end of the week."

"Great. No rush though, I've already finished it. So what did you wanna study today?" Harry sat down and began pulling various books out of his bag, Hermione watching them unshrink with interest, her eyes wide.

"Oh, er, I was thinking we'd get some work done on our Transfigurations homework that's due after break," Hermione sounded nervous. Usually people didn't like it when she suggested getting a head start on homework.

Harry nodded, "That's a great idea." He was glad that Hermione seemed to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Oh look," she said suddenly, "There are the others." She pointed over Harry's shoulder as Draco and Blaise arrived at their table.

"Hello. So what are we studying today," Draco asked as he took the seat next to Hermione. Thankfully his father had finally owled him back about what to do with Potter. He had agreed that a friendship with the boy might be beneficial in some way, and told Draco that it would be a good idea to go ahead and initiate one. Draco had felt surprisingly relieved, surprised at himself that he had begun to find his time with the boy-who-lived rather enjoyable. He decided he wouldn't mention anything about Miss Granger. There was no way father would approve of that debacle.

Hermione smiled at him, "Hi Draco. Transfiguration is what we will be focusing on. We're going to try to finish the two foot essay due by break's end."

Draco nodded as Harry had, "Good. I don't want to have to spend my break worrying about this essay anyway. Any idea what you'll write on yet? I was thinking about doing some research on imaging techniques and intent techniques and which is more important."

Hermione's smile grew, "Actually that was my idea as well. Let's go look for some books over in the Transfiguration section. I've already found one or two that might be helpful, but I'm sure there are some more relevant ones somewhere here."

Draco followed Hermione over to the stacks while Blaise turned to Harry, "Any idea what you'll write on? I'll probably just settle for writing a personal journal of what I find works best, the imaging part of Transfiguration. I thought it'd be original but now that they're both choosing the same topic..." Blaise trailed off and tipped his head toward the pair in the stacks. The two seemed to be bickering quietly over which books would be most helpful.

"That sounds like a cool way of writing about it. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will like it," Harry replied. "I think I might be interested in researching a bit more about why we can't always transfigure the content of things, like the inside of books, or the actual footage for a movie. It's surprisingly interesting."

Blaise nodded, not wanting to let it be known that he had absolutely no idea what a 'movie' was. "Well, let's get going then. Only another 2 hours before dinner and I want to be able to have this at least halfway done before then."

By the end of their work time, Blaise had proudly accomplished his goal, and had finished half of his essay. Harry had completely finished, using only his experiences as research, and writing about his own theories and conclusions. Hermione and Draco had both finished halfway as well, having spent most of their time researching and looking at experiments to see which was more helpful, intent or imaging.

Harry was surprised at how well Hermione and Draco had been getting along. He wondered if the boy knew that the witch wasn't a pureblood... or rather, from a family of recognition. If he did, he certainly didn't seem to care as much as Harry thought he would have. The four of them made their way to dinner happily, content with their progress on their essays. His smile faltered for only a moment when the slight jingle from his wrist reminded him that this wasn't all fun and games.

The weeks passed by uneventfully, and soon it was Halloween. Harry grimaced as he thought about the day to come. He would have to do his yearly ritual to remember his parents. He had started doing something in his fifth year and had done so each year since. He didn't think it helped really, but it was something he knew he needed to do. Something about lighting the candles and matching the constellations with his magic felt invigorating. What Harry was dreading, however, was the troll.

Now that Hermione was good friends with himself and many others, he doubted she would be crying in the girls lavatory that night, so Harry felt a bit relieved. Maybe this time he could just focus on directing attention toward Quirrell himself.

Thankfully, when dinner rolled around Harry saw Hermione sitting happily at the Ravenclaw table, discussing her Transfigurations essay with a third year who seemed interested in the topic.

Harry waited patiently, moving the food around on his plate, appetite lost on the one night of each year that only left sour memories in his mind. Then the doors to the great hall burst open and Harry heard the clanking of forks and knives being dropped to the side in shock, the other students watching as Professor Quirrell ran into the room, "Troll! There's a TROLL in the dungeons!" The room was entirely silent for a moment before the man finished lamely, "Thought you ought to know," and promptly fainted on the spot.

The Hall erupted instantaneously in a panic. Students screamed and teachers tried to yell for calm and quiet. Only Dumbledore's sonorus charm seemed to silence the children, "QUIET! Now, prefects will accompany their houses back to the dormitories, teachers will follow me, to the dungeons." The students and teachers scrambled to obey while Harry watched Snape slip out the back door. Honestly, the man had acted highly suspicious, it wasn't surprising Harry and his friends had suspected him of trying to steal the stone in another time.

As the students filed out, Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her into an alcove, "We don't have much time. Come with me." Hermione looked like she was about to protest but Harry silenced her, "Hermione!" His whisper sounded too harsh to his own ears, and he lightened his tone, "This is important. We need to go back into the great hall."

Hermione nodded once, quickly, confused but willing to do anything for her best friend. "All right."

Harry led Hermione back into the hall and over to the quivering body of Professor Quirrell. The man got up slowly, straightening his robes. "What are you two d-d-doing here? Sh-shouldn't you be at th-the dormit-t- dormitories?" Quirrell looked down at them, completely taken aback.

Harry laughed, "Oh but Professor we thought it would be best to stay with you. We wouldn't want you left alone and passed out, not with a troll on the loose. I wonder how it even got in in the first place." Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. "You know Professor, tonight is a very special night. It's terribly bad luck, not to mention horribly rude, to help a troll into the castle on tonight of all nights."

Quirrell's confusion melted into a look of malice, "Ahh, Potter, I don't know what you are implying, but perhaps I should see you both back to your rooms. It isn't safe out here right now. Come with me," the man grabbed them both by the back of their robes and pulled them along.

Harry threw Hermione a look, trying desparately to tell her that it was okay, they weren't in trouble, in fact Quirrell was about to be the one in trouble. Hermione just whimpered, and Harry remembered that here they were, after all, only eleven. The girl was brave, but the situation seemed to be too much for her to work through right now, just as the troll had been the last time around.

The two first years were pulled up the moving stairs, up and up and up, and for a moment Harry thought the man might actually be taking them to the Ravenclaw dorms, where Hermione should've been just then. Then Quirrell stopped in front of a familiar door on the third floor. Harry glanced around. Where was Snape? The man had been waiting here for Quirrell last time.

As if answering a calling, the shadows seemed to separate as the potions master came forward, "Quirrell, what _are_ you doing to those students?" The man's eyebrows rose dramatically.

Quirrell spun around, "Oh, S-s-Severus, I didn't s-s-see you there. Th-these two were tr-trying to get in the door h-here." His stutter was back full force and Harry glared at the man.

"No we weren't, Professor Snape, sir! Professor Quirrell dragged us up here after we checked on him in the Great Hall." Harry looked straight into Snape's eyes, as if daring him to look into his mind, "Hermione's really scared. We don't understand what we did wrong."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy, "Well you're out of your rooms, for starters" he hissed. "Which means" his silky baritone paused, "That I will escort you back to your rooms now. And I think a detention for you two is in order for not following simple directions, to be served with Filch, tomorrow night. You'll accompany him to Hagrid's hut, who will have something for you to do. Professor Quirrell can accompany us back to your rooms. With a troll in the castle... who knows what sort of danger could be lurking behind the corner if we don't, ah, group up."

Quirrell sputtered, "I-I suppose it w-w-would be prudent indeed."

The four set off toward the Ravenclaw dormitories just one floor up. Hermione sniffled as Harry pulled her along. He whispered in her ear, "It's okay Hermione. We're safe, it's all right. Professor Snape is here now." Harry chanced a glance at the dour professor. The man looked so much younger than Harry remembered him. His last time seeing the man alive he had looked so strained, regret marring his smooth face. Harry imagined his own face had looked similarly just after viewing the man's memories.

The man was still an unimaginabley cruel bastard, but he had earned Harry respect, whether he knew that or not.

Hermione's whimpers had grown silent by the time they had reached the Ravenclaw common room entrance. "H-Harry? What was all this about tonight? I feel like you were accusing the Professor of -"

Harry sighed and quickly cut her off, "I really did just want to check on Quirrell tonight. It seemed dangerous, just leaving him there passed out in the Great Hall with a troll on the loose. I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd get all aggressive suddenly." Harry looked over at the two teachers who were eyeing each other warily before turning back toward Hermione. He didn't like lying to the girl but he couldn't tell her, not just yet. She was new to magic still, and there was no way she would believe him.

The young Ravenclaw wiped her eyes, "Okay. I'm sorry, Harry. I'll... I'll see you in class."

Harry nodded and gave the girl an encouraging nudge toward her dorms and a small smile. "Good night, Hermione. So," he began as he turned back to the two older men, "ready to go down to the dungeons?"

Quirrell paled, "Actually, I th-think I have some b-b-business with the headmaster." The man quickly scurried down the moving stairs. Neither Harry nor Severus moved until the man had made his way down at least to the second floor.

"Let's go Professor," Harry started, smiling as he made his way down the stairs as well.

The potions master scowled at him, but followed, his long strides catching him up to the boy immediately. "Potter! What were you doing out of your dormitories tonight? You were told expressly to follow your house prefects back to the Slytherin common room." The man's acidic voice caused Harry to wince.

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, sir, but Hermione and I wanted to check on Quirrell, just like I said before." Harry didn't look at the man, he didn't want to see those cold eyes staring back at him.

"And I'm saying," Snape muttered, "That I don't believe you. You're clearly a trouble-maker, Potter!" The pair had almost reached the Slytherin portrait now and Hary finally turned and looked at his professor.

"Since it's quiet down here I'm going to assume Dumbledore took care of the troll, so we can talk for a minute. Listen up Professor Snape, cause I'm only gonna say this once."

Harry ignored the sharp " _Professor_ Dumbledore, Potter!" and continued: "I know you think I'm some pampered little golden boy, but I'm not. I'm far from any of that. I know you probably won't believe me, and I know you hate me because of who my dad was, but that's not me. I'm Harry, just Harry. I'm not gonna beg you for any kind of respect, since I really haven't earned it yet here, but please don't think that I go looking for trouble. I'm so tired of people thinking that." Harry sighed and leaned down to brush off his pant legs. They'd gotten a bit dusty from the antique atmosphere of the third floor corridor they'd been down.

Severus Snape was shaking with rage. The boy had the nerve to lecture him! "Why you good for nothing little swine! How dare you lecture me? Of course you're just like your miserable lump of a father who-!"

Potter's expression caught him off guard. Was that pity the boy looked at him with? "You know, Professor, it's okay it you hate me. It really is okay. Just know that I don't hate you. No matter what you've done, you'll always have my respect." Harry gave the man a small smile, "And there isn't much you can say that will hurt me now."

Harry turned around and said the password to the Slytherin portrait, "Goodnight Professor Snape." He completely missed the look on Snape's face as he left the potions master alone in the corridor. So much for making some good memories this Halloween.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 - Potter the Enigma

Severus Snape was a refined man. He was a man who always had a scathing reply, had a reputation for having the most biting and acerbic wit. He was not a man who was left sputtering in corridors. Well, not usually. But there he was, his face plastered with a look of shock and hatred as he watched Harry Potter retreat into the Slytherin common rooms. Yes and that was what he was doing, retreating, since he must know that Snape would've had a scathing comeback to put him in his place after his little speech. Or at least, that's what Severus told himself.

The man spun on his heel and walked briskly back to his own rooms. He needed a stiff drink before he would be able to go on his patrol route tonight around the castle. His patrols were always his favorite part of the day. Severus could and would give detention with Filch to any student he found out after hours in the halls or classrooms. But first, he needed that drink.

Severus strode into his private chambers and grabbed the decanter from on top of the table near his sofa. He looked at the offensive gray sofa with distaste. He never used the thing so perhaps he'd get rid of it. In its place he could put a larger table, with a larger decanter. This thought of course pleased Severus to no end because there would then be no end to the alcohol he consumed. The man poured himself a small glass of his brandy and gulped it down. Usually he would take the time to savor the wonderfully varied undertones his expensive brandy offered, but after tonight - after his interaction with _Potter_ \- he felt that just letting it start its work immediately would be best. Setting the glass and decanter down Severus nodded to himself. It was time to start his patrols. He only hoped he would be able to take away a record of amount of points tonight from the other houses.

After hours of patroling and finding no one out of bed, the potions master cursed his luck. Just when he really needed to find someone to take points from or _award_ a detention to, all of the students just had to be in bed. Nearing midnight, the man made his way up to the astronomy tower. Perhaps he could catch a couple snogging. The thought made him almost gleeful. Then he could award two weeks of detention, and oh wouldn't that be so gratifying!

However upon reaching the astronomy tower he paused at the door, listening to the faint latin string of words that signified a ritual for the departed. The potions master had never done one himself, they took a lot out of you magically, but he had considered doing it for Lily the first year after her death. Of course, the thought of also doing it for James Potter as he had also died that night made Severus cease those thought immediately and never return to them again. But here was a quiet voice, slowly speaking, almost humming the melodic latin. The older man slowly inched the door open, just enough to see inside without being discovered from his hiding place.

There was Harry Potter, candles in front of him arranged to match various constellations above him in the sky, lit and glowing ever so faintly.

Snape leaned in slightly, careful not to be discovered, and listened as the boy's voice shifted from his chant, "Mum, Dad, I miss you. I almost didn't make it tonight to do this but I couldn't let anything stop me." The boy laughed harshly for a moment, startling Snape, "Not even Quirrell. But of course," Harry's voice softened, "he isn't important and you are everything, everything that could've been. I don't ever want to have to say that about anything, about anyone, except you both and I promise I'll do everything in my power so I don't have to. I hope I can see you again soon." Snape strained in an attempt to hear the boy's hushed tones, missing the last few words that Harry said as the boy-who-lived stared intently into the candlelight. He seemed to be panting slightly, his magic having been exhausted from sending his words up into the stars.

Snape watched the boy sit there a while longer before the professor took his leave. Potter was so ... strange. The boy certainly wasn't what he had expected out of James Potter's heir. In fact, he really was quite like Lily ... Snape shook himself from his thoughts as he made his way to his own chambers. No, that wasn't true. He wasn't much like Lily either, though if Flitwick was correct it seemed he had her penchant for charms. Lily had been the scent of flowers and the sunshine during a lifetime of clouds. The _boy_ didn't embody any of that. Suddenly his face contorted angrily and his pace sped up. The potions master cursed himself silently. How had he forgotten to give Potter detention for being out late?

Severus Snape growled and made a harsh line through multiple lines of writing on the parchment on his desk. "Even in fifth year they don't understand how chopping affects ingredients differently than dicing. Disgraceful..." The man was seated in his study, tall bookshelves lining the walls, while he marked up potions essays. Students somehow always seemed to find new ways to surprise him with their mediocrity.

Severus looked up as he heard the door open and watched as Draco strode gracefully into the room and flopped _dis_ gracefully on to the sofa, sighing loudly. "Draco, to what do I owe the pleasure? Do you need assistance with your homework?" The raven haired man groaned mentally. Yes, that was why he needed to keep his sofa, so that he could entertain Draco.

Draco groaned, "No not at all. In fact I've completely finished all my homework for the holidays and it's turned out lovely. It's Harry. I've invited him to stay at the manor for the holidays along with Blaise and Theo, but he said he's staying here at Hogwarts! Honestly I can't tell if he actually likes me or not. He acts like we're friends but sometimes he gives me these weird looks like he's sad or angry or something. I don't know Uncle Sev, it's just so bloody annoying. Do you think he actually likes me?" The boy sat up suddenly as though coming to some nightmarish epiphany and Severus scoffed.

"Don't call me that! You know I hate nicknames." Severus threw his godson a dirty look before returning, "I don't pretend to know what Potter thinks, but he seems genuinely happy when in your company." Severus went back to marking the essays, "Perhaps your new friend doesn't think Malfoy manor will be luxurious enough to satisfy him." _Except he isn't spoiled, is he? He told you that,_ Severus' mind taunted him and he roughly shoved his inner voice to the side to hear Draco's reply.

"Not bloody likely. I bet it'd be like heaven for him. The way he flinches when he stretches, and always is first in and out of the showers in the morning, there's no way those muggles treated him like he deserves, even if he is only a half-blood."

Severus's quill paused, "May I remind you, Draco, that I am a half-blood?" Draco gulped.

"Right, sorry sir. Er, anyway. Like I was saying, those muggles were probably absolutely wretched. It's a good thing he fits in with us wizards. You know he's been reading books on wizarding tradition? He said I could borrow them sometime but I don't know why I'd need to." Here Severus scoffed and gestured dramatically to Draco's lump of a form on the sofa. The blonde boy ignored this and continued animatedly, "Miss Granger has them right now. Even though she's a ... er, well even though she comes from muggle-lineage, she's very dedicated to becoming a witch of standing and intelligence. I daresay with someone like me as her friend she might have some standing yet."

Severus said nothing to his godson's continued acceptance and even encouragement of the Granger girl in their little group. Though he was loath to admit it the frizzle-haired girl reminded him of himself at that age, both of them keen on learning and improving, though she certainly had more friends to count on her fingers than he had had.

"Draco is that all you came here for, to whine about Potter not liking you because he didn't accept your holiday invitation? And now you're just spouting on about the Granger girl? Surely you have something better to do with both of our time than bother me with these trivial matters." Severus shook his head disapprovingly. If he were honest with himself he actually enjyoed the boy'd company. Though the conversation was inane and uninteresting, Draco was his godson and Severus was glad the blonde felt comfortable enough with him to discuss school problems with him.

The blonde boy shot him a look, "I told you my homework is done and everyone else is busy. Miss Granger is helping Blaise finish his Transfigurations essay, Theo is sleeping as usual, and Harry is just reading out by the lake. Always reading, I swear, sometimes I think he's trying to commit every word to memory. You won't leave me alone will you Uncle" Draco pouted.

Severus sighed and put down his quill, "All right." There was no way he'd be finishing his essays tonight.

The days were cold and snowy as the winter holidays came. Most of the students were gone from the castle and the resident potions master was enjoying the reprieve. Of course, he still had lots on his plate. His current thoughts were centered on Quirrell. He wasn't sure what to do with the man. The headmaster felt that he was above reproach as their newest DADA professor, however Severus wasn't so sure. Something about the man rubbed Severus the wrong way, especially after that incident with Potter and Granger. The stuttering fool had brought two first years to the third floor corridor and Snape just knew the man was trying to get the stone. Alas, without Dumbledore's assistance, there was nothing he could do save try to warn the man off, which he had already done repeatedly.

Severus groaned and rubbed his temples as he sat down next to the headmaster at the communal table for Christmas breakfast. Potter and Granger were whispering incessantly back and forth and it was beginning to get on the older man's nerves.

"What a wonderful morning it is. Happy Holidays everyone," the Headmaster welcomed everyone to the morning feast and everyone began to dig in. Severus sniffed as he watched all the students present reach immediately for the sweets in the center of the table, truly they were such barbarians.

From across the table Granger addressed him, "Er, Professor Snape sir? Happy Christmas. Uhmn," the girl was blushing furiously and Potter nudged her quickly, "Right. Nevermind." The girl silenced herself, obviously embarrassed. What in the world had she wanted?

"Eloquent as ever, Miss Granger." Severus smirked as the girl flushed further, shooting a furious look at Potter who shot the same look back at her.

Severus finished the rest of his breakfast in peace and when the quaint affair was over he made to sweep from the room as the hellions rushed out to play in the snow. He craned his neck to listen in as Potter passed him, whispering furiously to Granger, "I can't believe you were going to tell him about the dragon. He's just a baby and Merlin knows Professor Snape is a good man, but he won't want to help us get the baby to safety. C'mon let's go grab my cloak, we have to go talk to Hagrid."

 _A good man? A baby dragon?_ Potter was becoming quite the little puzzle. Severus swore he'd figure the boy out. After all, he hated enigmas.

 **AN: So I'm sorry this chapter was a bit shorter, but I promise the next one will definitely be longer. I'm also sorry for getting it out later than normal but spring quarter at the U just started and the reading list is just enormous. Anyway. Severus seems to like alcohol quite a bit but he isn't going to have issues with alcoholism in this story, he'll just enjoy finding comfort in his brandy more often than most of the other professors. The next chapter should also be coming sooner and will switch back to being Harry centric. Are any of you enjoying these shorter chapters that are more Severus-centric? I feel like they break up the story so we get a reprieve from Harry just doing stuff all the time. Please let me know though if they are really ruining the story for you and I'll try to stay more focused on Harry.**


	10. Chapter 10

Hey everyone. I just wanna say I'm so sorry it's been so long since I last updated. No, this story is not abandoned, and now that I've gotten over some bumps in life I'll be updating regularly. This chapter is a bit short, and sort of a filler before we get to some action next chapter between Harry and Quirrill. Hopefully you enjoy.

Chapter 10: Christmas

Harry awoke Christmas morning to the knowledge that he probably wouldn't have the standard Weasley jumper this year. He woke alone in the Slytherin dorms save for Theodore Nott who continued sleeping soundly. Harry shook his head in amusement. He rose from his bed and spelled his clothes on, heading downstairs to the common room.

There weren't many other students there, and everyone Harry knew save Hermione had gone home for Christmas. He looked toward the large tree in the center of the room and sighed as he saw the other students eyeing his pile of presents enviously. There were quite a few. Each year people throughout the magical world try to send Harry gifts to thank him for defeating the Dark Lord as a baby. Usually he just collected them all up and donated them to wizarding second hand shops so someone else could get them for their own family. He was still baffled by the idea that people actually wanted to give _him_ presents. He was, after all, just Harry.

Harry spotted a few packages though that surprised him this year and he managed to tear them open eagerly. Dumbledore's gift of Harry's father's cloak made Harry frown. He had epected this, yes, but it didn't bring Harry pleasant memories of his past timeline. A Deathly Hallow he'd had all along and he hadn't even known it. He would put this to better use this time around, that was for sure. The other gifts he grinned at, a present from Hermione and one from Malfoy. Hermione had sent back her books on wizarding traditions that she had borrowed from him and finished, as well as some classic muggle literature. The boy-who-lived had never gotten the chance to read many actual novels and he was looking forward to the opportunity. The H.G. Wells collection looked especially intriguing. His final gift was from Draco, and Harry was immediately taken aback upon opening it. There was a book titled _An Introduction to Healing: Theory and Spells_ , as well as a wand holster that looked the perfect size for his forearm with a note attached:

 _Harry,_

 _Happy Christmas. I hope this day finds you well. Seeing as you are the only heir to House Potter I assume you have the funds to buy anything you desire for the holidays, so I thought a more practical gift might be better. Let's just say I've seen the signs before and I hope that these should help should you need any assistance during the summer hols next year. I won't mention the matter again if you'd prefer, but just know that the wand holster also acts as a portkey to my family home if you say, "Malfoy Manor" while clutching it with your other hand, in case of an emergency._

 _Warmest Regards,_

 _Draco Malfoy_

Harry let out a true smile. He couldn't believe how different this time around was going. Draco Malfoy was not only a sort of friend to him, but was concerned about his safety. Harry frowned a bit when reading the part about 'the signs.' He hadn't known he was being so obvious. He would have to make more of an effort to figure out a way out of the Dursley's house before the next summer hols. He certainly didn't want to have to use the portkey portion of his gift if he didn't have to. Harry's head turned up to look at the clock. Best get down to breakfast!

* * *

Hermione and he had discussed Norbert over breakfast, after thanking each other for their gifts of course (Hermione had absolutely gushed over being given some thorough books on wizarding traditions), and they had agreed it might actually be best to just let Hagrid keep him and raise the creature in the forest. Harry wasn't sure exactly what that would change but anything he could do differently, he wanted to do. He had decided to do a bit of light reading over the afternoon and then take a nighttime walk with his cloak that night after curfew. There was one thing he wanted to see before the chance was gone.

* * *

Harry slipped out from under his cloak upon entering the room and having the door shut quietly behind him. He stepped forward, eyeing the mirror in the middle of the room with trepidation. He wondered if he would see his parents again, like the last time.

He sat down in front of the mirror, eyes trained on the image reflected back at him. He saw himself, and then the background began to shift and meld into new shapes. He saw a sea of faces that looked so... alive. Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Dumbledore. Everyone he had lost stood behind him, smiling down at him. Hermione was there next to him, as well as Draco, and the Weasleys were there as well, all alive close to the back. He was surprised Ginny wasn't up front with Harry himself, but he shook the thought away.

This was what he so desperately desired, what he truly wanted most. He nodded to himself. Things would be different. No one would die. Harry would put a stop to it all. He stood then, throwing his cloak back on and heading back to the dorms. This had been what he had needed to spur him into action. After the holiday break ended Harry would have to tackle the stone and his nemesis. Harry would most certainly be looking into owl ordering some extra books on a variety of subjects tonight before dinner if he was going to go in alone this time. He wouldn't risk anyone else again, and he needed to be prepared.

* * *

The holiday having come to an end, Harry had already finished his new book on healing from Draco, and he had received his expedited order of books from Flourish and Blotts on strategy and dueling techniques and gotten through quite a bit of those as well. He had taken on the Dark Lord at the height of his return, he could certainly handle the half-parasite that was Quirrell. It was the first day back of classes and Harry was just exiting potions class with Draco and Hermione. Blaise and Theo were talking and walking behind them.

"Harry I really don't understand why you don't just go up to Professor Snape and ask him about your essay!" Hermione moved to block Harry from passing but Draco pulled the other boy around her.

Draco looked over at Hermione, "You know perfectly well why. Professor Snape may be our head of house and my Godfather but he still isn't the nicest man in Hogwarts."

"But Harry's essay was better than mine and I got an E while he only got an A. It's complete nonsense!" Hermione's face was beginning to turn red from frustration. How could they not see the injustice?

Harry sighed, "Hermione, Professor Snape has his reasons for giving me the grade he did. They might not be good reasons, but I don't want to get into them now. I'm just going to keep doing my best so that he doesn't have any excuse to mark me down any further."

Hermione nodded tightly before letting it go. She would have to investigate on her own into why Professor Snape was so wrongly grading Harry. "Either way, I spoke to my parents over the break." Here Hermione began to wring her hands nervoulsy while they walked, "I told them about you all, about us being friends. They... well they really want to meet you both. I was told I could invite you to go on holiday with us this summer to Italy. They would pay for everything of course. I mean obviously if you don't want to go I completely understand, I figured you wouldn't want to anyway you see and-"

Harry stopped abruptly and Hermione turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "'Mione, I would love to go. I've never been out of the country before and spending time with you over the summer sounds much better than with the Dursleys."

Draco looked nervous, about asking his father to spend the summer with a muggle-born like Hermione, Harry guessed, but responded nonetheless, "That sounds amazing, Miss Granger. I would be honored to accompany you. My family has a small villa in Italy so I know some of the great local spots we could visit."

Hermione beamed at them both. "I'm so glad! I can't wait, I'll owl them tomorrow to let them know." She ran off, presumably to write the letter, and Harry turned to Draco expectantly.

"So what are you going to tell your father? I know all about Lucius Malfoy's infamous hatred of all things muggle and muggle-born. How are you going to convince him to let you spend part of the summer with Hermione?" Harry frowned. He wondered if Malfoy senior could be changed this time around too. Draco was certainly making progress without a real enemy to go up against, aside from the occasional tiff with Ron of course. Harry still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"I'm sure I'll figure something out. I'm sure if I tell him the great Harry Potter is coming along he'll be fine with it. If worst comes to worst I'll just convince him to take us to our villa in Italy and then just meet up with you and Miss Granger each day. Considering how busy he is, I doubt he'd suspect a thing." Here Draco frowned, and Harry thought he saw true disappointment on the other boy's face. He knew Lucius wasn't the best father but could sheer lack of time for his son be the major reason why Draco strived so hard to be so much more like his father?

Harry patted Draco's back once and then ran ahead, looking back at the other boy, "Come on, let's get going Draco! We've got a Herbology lesson to get to!"

* * *

Thanks so much for reading everyone and a happy belated mother's day to you all. The next chapter is already done as well so that should be up within the week. I hope you all enjoy and then after next chapter we will be having some developments and real changes finally. Whoo!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: One Killing Curse Does a Killer Make

Harry made his way to Quirrell's classroom quietly, his cloak shimmering around him, hiding him from the gaze of late-night prefect patrols. His wand out, he used his other hand to press the door open, surprised to see the older man sitting at his desk at the front of the room, head in his hands. He shut the door behind him and threw off his cloak, "Good evening, Professor." Snape always had said he loved to make a dramatic entrance.

Quirrell's eyes shot up, "P-P-Potter, wh-what are you d-d-doing here?" Harry grimaced at the man's fake stutter.

"Really Professor, I thought you would've been able to guess after the incident on Halloween. I don't trust you. I know what you're letting leech off of your body." Harry raised his wand a fraction, ready for however Quirrell may react.

There was silence for a moment before Quirrell's lips quirked up at the edges, an uproarious laugh ejecting from his mouth. "How dare you, boy? You presume to know my secrets?" His stutter forgotten, Quirrell pushed on, standing, "Halloween was ruined because of you. Such carefully laid plans, with nothing to show for it." Here the man grew angry, "Do you know how it was for me because of that? To have to retreat to stew in my failure with just myself and-"

"Lord Voldemort? Yourself and Lord Voldemort, is that what you were going to say?" Harry spoke a bit louder, his voice unwavering in confidence. He was ready for this. "Why don't you show yourself to me, then? Or is the _mighty_ Dark Lord not so mighty after all?"

"Ahhhh, Harry... I wondered when we would truly meet." A cold and distant-sounding voice echoed off the walls of the room.

Quirrell's hands began to shake, "Master please, you are not strong enough..." The man looked just as troubled and weak as Harry remembered when he had tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone. He wondered briefly how Quirrell had become a follower of the Dark Lord.

"I am strong enough, for this," the voice hissed. Quirrell unwrapped his turban, pale fingers illuminated in the dull candlelit classroom unfurling the long, thin fabric, tossing it to the side. His head was disproportionately bulbous, just as Harry remembered and as the older man turned around, revealing Lord Voldemort's deformed face on the reverse of his skull, Harry stamped down the anger he felt. This man was the reason for everything, the reason everyone had died, the reason he had lost... everything. Not this time.

Harry's fingers tightened around his wand, extending the holly wood further out toward the half-man that stood before him. He knew the image he presented, an overly confident eleven-year-old, standing in front of Lord Voldemort, not a year of formal training under his belt yet. However, as Harry had long since learned, not everything is always as it appears.

"Look at you Harry, it's been too long. Since you were just a young little thing. Why have you come to me?" Red eyes squinted, out of curiosity or an inability to see him at that distance Harry wasn't sure.

"You shouldn't have come back to Hogwarts, Tom." Now that surprised him. A hiss and then, "How dare you? That is no longer my name! Quirrell, dispose of this boy, this, plague to my cause." Quirrell's body rotated again, and those pale fingers disappeared into his robe to draw out his own wand.

Tensing slightly Harry flourished his wand, "Sectumsempra!" Quirrell's eyes widened as he quickly erected a strong shield charm which shattered when the curse connected.

A shrill hiss resounded, "The boy knows far too much, magically and about me, kill him!"

Harry rolled to the side, dodging a jet of red light. Quirrell's arm rose and his lips parted to utter, "Avada Ke-"

"Stupefy!"

Harry's spell flew first and Quirrell's words never finished escaping his mouth. The wizard collapsed, stunned. Harry's ears perked at the low cursing he heard, apparently the spell had stunned Quirrell but left Voldemort conscious. Moving of their own accord, Harry's legs carried him forward, passing the wooden desks of the classroom and reaching the still body of his professor. "There are so many things I want to say to you, Tom." Silence. "And I dearly hope I never get the chance after this moment. So if I don't... I'll just say that I'm sorry for what you are and what you will become." Harry thought back to the inept form from his illuminating time at King's Cross Station. "I'm sorry for everything that happened that made you what you are, but as a wise man once told me, it is our choices that define us. I'm afraid to say you've made the wrong choices, Tom." Harry lifted his arm to point at Quirrell's head rather than his body. He couldn't risk Voldemort surviving, as he hadn't been hit by the stunning spell. He whispered softly, like a lullaby, "Avada Kedavra." Bright green shot out of his wand and connected. He waited, listening only to the sound of his heavy breathing.

He had killed a man. This wasn't like any of the battles Harry had been in before, when he had stunned or knocked out his opponents. He had killed a man just now, in cold blood, and he felt no remorse. Was this what he was meant to change? Had he been meant to be, all along, a killer?

The moment passed, his chest heaving, Harry struggled to turn over Quirrell's body, and saw only a charred mass on the back of his head. He had succeeded. That's all that mattered.

Looking around the room, Harry nodded once. Time to take care of the loose ends. He couldn't have Quirrell's body being discovered, it would generate too many questions far too soon. "Locomotor." He lifted his ex-professor's body and moved it up into the man's office. He then began gathering Quirrell's personal things and, casting an undetectable extension charm on one of the man's smaller bags, he proceeded to levitate all of the items, Quirrell included, into the bag. He tightened the string around the pouch's opening and shrunk it to fit into his pocket. He would have to get rid of this as soon as was safe. For tonight, however, he had done enough. The rest of the year would, with any luck, pass by uneventfully. He put his cloak back on and, repairing a desk that had broken in the scuffle, returned to the tower. Sleep did not come, rather a burning image of green light leaving his wand kept him from his dreams.

* * *

Over the next week things went easily, and luck seemed to be on his side. The sudden disappearance of Quirrell had raised suspicions of course, but when his things were discovered missing as well, it was generally agreed that he had rushed abroad somewhere to further his research or for some emergency. Either way the only party that looked truly concerned was Snape, constantly wittering away into Dumbledore's ear about some conspiracy or another having to do with Quirrell.

The one thing Harry had been especially concerned about was the lack of a proper DADA teacher with Quirrell gone, however Professor McGonagall seemed to fit the extra teaching into her schedule just fine and so she took over for the remaining weeks. With her as their professor, Harry was hopeful that more students than ever might pass their end of year exams.

However Harry was still haunted by his actions. He would wake in a cold sweat more than once, not just from nightmares of his friends dying anymore, but from nightmares of his own destruction, of himself killing Voldemort and Quirrell. He still had the bag with his body inside and his things, it would be too dangerous to dispose of it while still on Hogwarts grounds, that much he was sure of. He would have to wait until he returned to the Dursleys to get rid of it.

* * *

Exams finally over, everyone trudged back to their common rooms, relief or defeat evident on many students faces. Hermione ran over to Harry, face scrunched up, "Oh I know I answered the question on the theory behind levitation wrong, I just know it!"

Harry grinned, "I'm sure you passed with flying colors, Hermione. Look, here comes Draco. Hey, Draco,"

The blonde boy inclined his head, "Hey, Harry, Miss Granger. Blaise is headed back down to the dungeons, he's really depressed about that last test. Exams were brutal, huh?" Hermione nodded fiercely while Harry barked out a laugh.

"Oh, lighten up you lot! They're over now, let's move on to bigger and better things. Italy for example?" Harry flicked a piece of imaginary lint off of his robes and sat down underneath a large tree in the courtyard. "Do you want to meet there or are we going together?"

Hermione hummed, "My parents said that if meeting there is more convenient we can do that, or they'll buy us all plane tickets to go with them. Do you two have a preference?"

Harry looked over at Draco. The other boy's face was a mass of confusion. "I for one would love to go on a plane. I've only been on one once and it was loads of fun. It's just like flying, Draco, but instead of being on a broom everyone is sitting down in a room that flys, called an airplane."

Draco gulped before putting on an air of knowledge, "Of course, I know what a plane is, Harry. An airplane ride sounds lovely, er shall we meet at the plane directly or beforehand?" His eyes darted back to Hermione, who was very successfully holding in her laughter at Draco's reaction to the plane discussion.

"How about you both come to my house the day we leave? I'm going to be hooking my parent's fireplace up to the floo network this summer so it should be easy for you to arrive Draco. As for you Harry," Hermione tore a piece of parchment off from an essay she'd gotten back the other day and scribbled something down on it, "Here's my address. I know the Dursley's don't use the floo."

Harry nodded, grateful. "I've never really gone on holiday before. I'm honestly really looking forward to this. I..." Harry looked between Hermione and Draco nervously, his tongue darting out to moisten his dry lips, "I'm really glad we're all friends. I never thought this would be such a good year."

His companions looked at him, smiles growing on their faces. Draco patted his knee lightly, "We had best get to packing now, Harry. Wouldn't want to miss the train home. I've heard they make you ride thestrals home if you do." He shivered for effect.

Harry laughed. Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Hey all, so I know this chapter might have felt a bit rushed but I'm trying to speed up the first few years so that we can really move on to bigger and better things later in the story. Hopefully y'all don't mind and we can get to some romance action sooner haha, tho it definitely won't happen until Harry's body is a bit older. Thanks!


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